Dragon-Cursed
by EmeraldStarOfTheSouthernIsles
Summary: An acolyte of ancient Darkness resurrects the Elven twins as unwitting pawns in a scheme to destroy the heart of their magic - the gossamer threads of Light which are woven into the very fabric of Eternity. But the sentinels of Light laid their own plans a long time ago, and nothing is set in stone. Approx. 64 chapters in total when finished.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**8th Feb 2013 - A/N:  
><strong>A huge thank you to CrazyNorwegian who has done a wonderful drawing of Elfraine on deviantART. Check it out at crazynorwegian. deviantart gallery/#/ d5tus8y - remember to take out the spaces :) I've also posted the link on my profile page.

**22nd Apr 2013 – A/N:  
><strong>Have also used this image in the new book cover for this story. Once again, many thanks to CrazyNorwegian for her permission to use it.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI

.

**Prologue**

_The Eternal  
>In one blazing moment of imbalance - a moment of exquisite perfection - the inanimate symmetry of the void was ripped asunder by Light and the flaming filaments of life burst out across the vast, cold expanse of Darkness, illuminating every corner of Eternity. But Darkness is ancient and inexorable, and the sentinels of Light must stand ever ready to defend against those who would extinguish the bright fire of the Eternal.<em>

**... ... ...**

It was done! As he surveyed the scene of his handiwork, the Draoidubh felt a keen sense of exhilaration. He'd just worked one of the great feats of magic, and for a moment he allowed himself to revel in the knowledge of his power. And when he triumphed, all the world would know of his power too and bow before him. He pushed aside the disturbing thought of the balancing consequence that would occur somewhere in the fabric of time; although the sorcery he'd just performed would bring great rewards, there was also great risk attached to it in the form of the as yet unknown but inevitable consequence. However, that was for the future and besides, he felt confident he could deal with it when it was revealed. For the present, he'd done as much as he could and it was all now a matter of timing.

He quickly gathered up the accoutrements of his black arts – the Knife of Passing, the Black Cerement, two bone chalices and fourteen candles made from the lard of fourteen sacrificed ones – and stowed them back in his knapsack. As he fastened the pack, he glanced over at the lapidified forms, one whole and one in pieces. Before invoking the_ Dóiteáin de Aiséirí_, he'd assembled those pieces into the rough approximation of what they'd once been, and he noted with satisfaction how they were now starting to knit together and mould themselves back into the fully formed creature they'd been four years ago.

After one final look around, to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, the Draoidubh swiftly concealed himself within the subterranean chamber so he could witness the next act. He wanted to ensure all went as planned, though he didn't quite know what he could do if his supporting actor missed his cue or lost his nerve. The whole crux of the plan was to make certain his own role in it remained hidden but he supposed that if it came down to it, he could always kill his man and take a direct part in events even though that was not the way he liked to do things. On most occasions he preferred a more opaque and Byzantine approach, rather like a puppet master pulling the strings, he thought sneeringly to himself... load the gun and let someone else pull the trigger. After all, there was no point in tipping his hand and giving away the advantage of stealth. But despite his momentary concern now, he shouldn't have to get involved any more than he intended to; he'd primed his man well and felt confident the next act would proceed without difficulty.

From his vantage point, he could see that the stone forms had regained a fleshly appearance and noted how their chests now rose and fell as breath suffused their bodies. He was convinced the elves would play their parts to perfection, unlike their father all those centuries ago. That weak, foolish king had finally lost both his will and his nerve, and in doing so had thwarted years of planning and preparation. But his son was an altogether different proposition and the Draoidubh was certain the younger elf would hold fast to his hatred and determination, and prove himself an invaluable tool in the eternal struggle against the Light.

Indeed, the elven prince would have had the opportunity to do just that four years ago if not for his interfering, whey-faced bitch of a sister, and that great, lumpish baboon of a demon. With the unrelenting and indestructible force of the Golden Army at his command, the prince would have plunged the earth into great conflict and strife, and neither side would have noticed the loss of the Light until it was too late to do anything about it.

The Draoidubh frowned as he thought about the red demon. Anung Un Rama... _he_ should have been the one to raze the world and leave it prostrate before the forces of Darkness. As the elven prince had so correctly noted, the son of the Fallen One was born from a womb of shadows and had been sent to bring catastrophic destruction down upon humankind. But one man had welcomed him... had been a father to him... had made him believe he belonged in the human world... and just like that, the Beast of Apocalypse had been brought to heel. And even though the inevitable disillusionment with humankind had finally set in, the demon now had both feet planted firmly in the mortals' camp; after all, his mother had been human albeit a witch and his children were part-human. It seemed extremely unlikely there would be an Apocalypse coming from that quarter any time soon; if anything, Anung Un Rama was now the biggest _threat_ to the forces of Darkness, his disappointment in humanity notwithstanding.

And that was the problem. The Draoidubh had grown impatient with the creeping pace of progress. Though the spread of Darkness was inexorable, yet Light was nevertheless too powerful and too tenacious to destroy in one fell swoop. It had to be chipped away at over eons, piece by tiny piece. But if the inhabitants of the world could be made to destroy one another, then it would make the proliferation of Darkness that much easier... and quicker.

Which was where the elven prince came in; he would be the stone with which to kill two birds, so to speak. He'd almost done it four years' ago, and now with the Draoidubh's help, he'd get a second chance. And this time he would not fail; the Draoidubh would be nearby, to lend an unseen hand as necessary and keep things on course. The elf would be forced to give his oath and pledge allegiance to his detested foes, and his sister would add the sharp edge of insult to injury. Under such intolerable restraints, the prince would chaff and fester until finally, when the promise given freely to him in return for his oath was broken, he would be at liberty to destroy the demon and the BPRD - those detested bulwarks against Darkness - and prosecute his all-out war on humanity. Of course, the elf would have no idea he would also be dooming his own people. By the time he realised the true implications of his actions, it would be too late. There would be neither resurgence nor fading away for the Sons of the Earth; instead, they would perish in cold darkness along with humanity, and only those who served the Draoidubh would survive in _His_ new kingdom.

Turning his attention back to the elves, the Draoidubh saw they had now completely regenerated and that consciousness was returning as they struggled to make sense of what was happening. The elven princess still lay on her back and placed an arm over her face as she moaned in confusion. The prince was on his hands and knees, and attempting to gain his feet.

The Draoidubh looked expectantly towards the shadows of the passageway leading into the chamber and was gratified to see a small light approaching the entrance. Things were falling into place nicely but it was only right that they did; over the last four years, he'd gone to great effort preparing to invoke the Fire of Resurrection, and one of his most faithful servants had just been sacrificed in order that the elves might live again.

He shivered as he thought of the bean-sídhe's fierce, awful aspect: long, silver-white hair; corpse-grey skin; sharp, gleaming teeth set behind thin, black lips; and Hell-red eyes. It was a pity she'd had to be destroyed; she was one of the most terribly beautiful creatures he'd ever seen. But she had offered unhesitatingly to make the sacrifice for him, and he had accepted unhesitatingly. For her blood would anchor the magic required to awaken life within the dead, and would give him some measure of control over the elves. Having been human once, and not born of magic as they were, the Draoidubh would otherwise have been unable to exercise _any_ power over them now that they were resurrected, and he was truly grateful for the bean-sídhe's unflinching offer... not that she would have had much say in the matter had she been unwilling. He was unable to stop his thoughts wandering back to the last licentious moments of the Faerie woman's life.

... ...

_He beckoned to the shadows and the __bean-sídhe emerged from the stygian depths. The soft folds of her green mantle did nothing to disguise the voluptuous curves underneath, and his own body started to ready itself at the sight of her. Patience, he murmured under his breath; his lust would be sated soon enough. _

_Without a word, they set about their preparations for the ritual they were about to perform, and once all was in place – cerement, chalices, candles and knife – she threw off her green mantle and stood naked before the stone altar they'd erected between the corpses of the elven twins. The Draoidubh joined the Faerie woman and they started to intone the spell which would call forth the Fire of Resurrection. A wild wind soon blew up but the candles of the sacrificed ones burned unwaveringly and the louder and more intense the magic grew, the higher the flames flared. _

_Still chanting, the Draoidubh pushed the __bean-sídhe down onto the cold, stone altar and threw off his own robes. He was ready for her, and with the power of his own magic coursing through him, he fell on her body and took her then and there. As the unearthly wind raged all around, he rode her with dark purpose and lustful urgency, and as they found their release, he snatched up the Knife of Passing from beside her head on the altar and plunged it into her heart. Their hellish chanting abruptly stopped, leaving only the roaring of the wind as it continued to storm. _

_The __bean-sídhe's life blood and energy pumped out of her body and passed through the Knife before snaking along the ley lines of the elves' bodies. When it reached the extremities, it shimmered for a brief moment and then burst into flames. As the Dóiteáin de Aiséirí burned into the cold stone, the Draoidubh quickly threw the bean-sídhe's corpse atop the conflagration now consuming the elves' bodies. Watching the flames claim her, he thought it a shame she'd had to die. But no matter; he'd have _world enough, and time _for all the pleasures he desired with others of her kind_ _once he'd achieved his ends. _

_And as the last of the __bean-sídhe's remains burnt away, the unearthly wind suddenly ceased it's storming, and the ritual was completed. He'd done all he could, and it was time to wait in the wings and let other actors play their parts._

... ...

Dragging his errant thoughts back to the present, the Draoidubh looked to the dark passageway again and right on cue his man entered the chamber, holding a torch in one hand and the rune stone in the other.

**... ... ...**

The man was relieved when he finally reached the chamber. He hadn't liked the dark, narrow passageway one bit. His torch only showed the immediate area in front of his feet and for some reason, its beam seemed unable to penetrate the shadows that clung to the walls. He had the nasty feeling that if he stretched out his hand into those shadows, he might not get it back again. The chamber was thankfully brighter than the passageway though he had no idea where the dim light was coming from. He quickly clipped his torch to his belt and drew his gun, holding it out in front of him. In that very instant, he saw the elves and in the next, his eyes met the deadly, flame-gold gaze of Prince Nuada, Silverlance. His nerve very nearly failed him at that but Tom Manning, Director of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defence, held out the rune stone and in an unsteady voice started to intone the spell of binding he'd been given... and hoped like hell it was going to work.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Draoidubh: (from Gaelic) Dark sorcerer - 'draoi' meaning druid or sorcerer, and 'dubh' meaning black or dark.

Lapidify: To change to stone [from French _lapidifier,_ from Medieval Latin _lapidificāre,_ ultimately from Latin _lapis_ stone].

An Dóiteáin de Aiséirí: (Gaelic) The Fire of Resurrection.

Bean-sídhe: (Gaelic) In Irish mythology, a female spirit - often considered an omen of death and a messenger from the Otherworld.

'Had we but world enough, and time' – Andrew Marvell, _To His Coy Mistress_, c. 1650.

.

_First posted: here on fanfiction, 14th March 2012  
><em>


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 1**

The phone rang and Manning picked it up with a sigh. As expected, it was his secretary calling to advise him his 9 o'clock appointment had arrived. The unpleasant moment couldn't be put off any longer. "Give me a few minutes then show her in," he told the woman.

He tugged at his tie as he sat back in his chair and tried to mentally brace himself for what was to come. He was under no illusion it would be easy. Though he hadn't said as much, the prince had clearly been pissed off when Manning told him about the Archives project – but really, what could the elf do about it? At the end of the day he would just have to put up with it, and besides it was only a temporary thing. Miss Somerled, the archivist sent by the employment agency, would take about three months to transcribe the most important collections in the BPRD Archives Storeroom into digital format, and three months wasn't even the blink of an eye in an elf's lifespan. And what's more, it _was_ the BPRD's storeroom no matter what Prince Nuada thought. The only trouble was, in the few months he and his sister had been there Nuada had managed to "convince" just about everyone else that it was in fact his own personal domain. Most people avoided using it now unless they absolutely had to, and even then they tended to get Abe to retrieve whatever they needed. Agent Sapien was an approachable and well-respected member of the BPRD. He was also one of the few agents who seemed to take the prince's cold and remote manner in his stride and not get totally freaked out by it.

Manning brightened up a little as he recalled he'd had the foresight to include Hellboy and the rest of his team in this first meeting. They'd at least help keep the elf in line if he decided to be difficult, or so Manning hoped.

He snorted as he thought how there were some things that would probably never change. Nuada still hated humans with a passion and Manning was only too well aware that he personally was skating on thin ice with his insistence the prince work for the BPRD. He now realised he'd been overly optimistic when he used the rune stone to force both the prince's oath and allegiance after Nuada and his sister had been resurrected about four months ago but at the time the reasons to do so had seemed compelling, as they still did, and the risks negligible. Unfortunately almost immediately after he'd used the stone it became clear that those risks were anything but negligible. Having Nuada working for them was like having a tiger by the tail, and the rune stone now seemed only a very tenuous restraint on the prince at best.

He'd sought out Nuada and his sister in the first place because he'd received word that they were about to be resurrected. It had also been put to him by his source that it might be a good idea to "employ" the services of the prince for the BPRD to help figure out what was behind the upsurge in paranormal activity that had started about two months before the elves' revival. The prince had been extremely useful on the missions he'd undertaken since Manning brought him back from Ireland but they still hadn't been able to get a good lead on what exactly was going on. Scattered amongst the usual types of things they dealt with, if anything they did could be called usual, were reports of strange, frightening shadows - half man and half beast according to some accounts – that seemed to almost devour light. And it wasn't just the human race that was affected: the Sons of the Earth were also being plagued by these preternatural events and that was something that was almost unheard of. It seemed that even magic was somehow being leached from the world. Each new report needed to be investigated but Manning just didn't have the resources to fully cover everything. To make matters worse, they'd lost two teams in the last three months – their agents had just vanished off the face of the earth and the Bureau was still no closer to finding any answers as to their fates. He didn't like sending other teams out now because they were basically flying blind but he had no choice.

They had to start taking some proactive steps in combating this unknown and elusive menace, and Manning agreed with Abe's suggestion that making use of the BPRD's extensive collection of files was as good a place to start as any. The books and records that were going to be transcribed contained some of the oldest and most comprehensive writings on the magical realm in existence and might reveal some clue as to what was happening if they were lucky. That meant it was important the books could be easily and rapidly searched, and were accessible to as many agents as possible. They needed to move as quickly as they could and the prince's desire for solitude definitely came a poor second to these more pressing concerns.

**... ... ...**

Manning's secretary interrupted his musings as she knocked on the door and ushered the archivist in. Manning looked up... and was momentarily lost for words as the woman entered the room. She was most definitely not what he would have imagined an archivist to look like if he'd ever given the matter any consideration. Miss Somerled was certainly easy on the eye, Manning thought to himself.

He closed his mouth, stood up and walked around his desk to shake the hand she held out in greeting. Up close, she wasn't as tall as he'd initially thought, being instead of rather average height. But she was every bit as lovely. She had a nice figure with a small waist and generous curves in all the right places - the simple dark moss-green dress she wore certainly clung lovingly to those curves - while her ankles and legs were displayed to good advantage by a pair of black high-heeled shoes. The pleasing symmetry of her features was enhanced by a clear, creamy complexion and the faintest blush of rose on her cheeks while her thick, deep brown hair was shot through with threads of red and gold, and curled softly about her face and shoulders. Warm brown gold-flecked eyes framed by impossibly long black lashes provided a striking contrast to her pale, flawless skin.

"I'm Tom Manning, Director of the BPRD. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Somerled," he managed to say even though he was still caught up in appreciation of the angelic vision before him.

"Likewise I'm sure Director Manning," she replied as she shook his hand. Her voice had an attractive, low, musical timbre and she spoke with a polished British accent. "But please, call me Elfraine," she added with a winning smile, her full pink lips parting to reveal a row of neat, even white teeth.

Manning was rendered mute for a moment as he was lost in that smile however he quickly recovered, and invited her to take a seat. "Miss Somerled," he started to say as he straightened the papers on his desk in an attempt to stop himself from staring at her again.

"Please, call me Elfraine," she interrupted smoothly, repeating her first name, "or Elf for short if you like."

That brought Manning's head up. He'd missed it the first time, lost as he was in her winning smile. _Elf_raine, he thought to himself. _Elf_ for short! Oh no, that wasn't good! That wasn't good at all! It would be like throwing fuel on a fire! He briefly wondered if he could ask her to change her name while she was working on the project but settled instead for a weak, sickly smile before hurrying on. "Um yes, well as I'm sure you know we have several old collections that need to be transcribed into digital format urgently so I thought I'd show you the Archives Storeroom and collections today, and introduce you to several of our agents that you may find ... err, useful ... during the project." He faltered at this last part and grimaced. "Useful" was a bit of an understatement but of course he didn't want to scare her off and that led him to the difficult part, which was giving her a heads up about the prince, again without putting her off the job before she'd even started.

Elfraine could see he was bothered by something and gave him a sympathetic look before saying kindly, "Thank you Director Manning. Pray tell me what's on your mind sir. You're clearly disturbed by something and if it's to be bad news I'd prefer it served straight up. I assure you, I'm not as fragile as you might think."

She said this with such an understanding smile that Manning was encouraged to rush on. "Well, this should be a fairly straightforward project and I'm sure you'll have no problem with the actual work. But there's one thing that might be a bit ... ah, difficult. One of our agents has a ... a special interest in the Archives Storeroom and spends a lot of time there. Unfortunately he doesn't like humans at all ... um ... in fact he'd rather kill the lot of us! But partly for his sister's sake he's given us his word he won't destroy the human race, even though he's not very happy about it. Um, anyway ... I don't think he'll give you too much trouble, and the other agents you'll be meeting today should be able to help out if he does."

There was a pause as Manning seemed to realise he was rambling and probably not making much sense. He was also keenly aware that what sense he had managed to make would probably be enough to send Miss Somerled fleeing from the room in terror given that he'd basically told her she would be working alongside a homicidal maniac. "The thing is, you might find he's not very easy to deal with and as I said, he unfortunately spends a lot of time in the Archives room ... where you'll be working," he finished somewhat glumly before risking a glance at her to see how she was taking it all. He found her eyeing him with an inscrutable look.

Elfraine realised it was a perfunctory explanation at best – there was a lot Manning wasn't telling her. However she decided to let him away with it for the time being. "Well, that's not so bad Director Manning. I had thought you might be going to tell me the project was cancelled!" she said lightly. "However I understand the problem you're trying to get at. Let me assure you, I've worked with difficult people before and as you see, I live to tell the tale. By the way, you make it sound as if this man is not human. Is he affected by some mental disorder which makes him despise his own kind?"

Manning was somewhat heartened – she seemed to be taking it all rather well so far. But then again, she hadn't met the prince yet. He was also surprised at her perceptiveness, which led to the next sticking point. "Um no, he's not human. He's an elf ... and a prince!" he informed her before sitting back to await the usual reaction of fear and suspicion that generally greeted any mention of the Sons of the Earth. That had been the response from the general human population ever since Hellboy had revealed himself and the BPRD to the world several years ago.

However, once again Elfraine took it in her stride. "Dear me, a prince! How perfectly dreadful!" she drawled in amusement. At his look of surprise she went on to explain, "I've encountered Fae folk before, though never elves admittedly." Strictly speaking, that wasn't true but Elfraine didn't think the Director would be particularly interested in the half-elf child she'd known once, a child who'd died a long time ago. "I've found that in some ways those of the magical races are not so different to us – some are a pleasure to deal with and some are... not."

"Oh," was all Manning could say as he thought to himself that she was more than likely to find the prince fell into the latter camp. He wondered briefly how and where she might have encountered such creatures before and filed that piece of information away for later consideration. For the present however she was neither fearful nor suspicious and he allowed himself the luxury of imagining it might all go a whole lot better than he'd supposed.

"And besides," she carried on, "your organisation's title does lend itself to the suggestion that the work here isn't likely to be in the normal way of things."

"That's certainly true!" agreed Manning with feeling. Now, if only Nuada could manage to be civilised it might not be such an unpleasant introduction after all. "Right, well, if you're ready I'll take you to meet the others in the Archives room," he said resolutely as he stood up.

"'_Once more unto the breach'_ Director Manning," murmured Elfraine with a hint of irony that went entirely over his head.

**... ... ...**

Abe watched as Nuada paced the floor with a fierce scowl on his face. They were the first to arrive to meet the archivist and Abe was well aware Nuada was faced with an unpalatable choice – suffer the presence of a detested human in his sanctuary for three months or abandon it for that time. Although the prince hadn't said anything about it, Abe could tell he was not at all pleased. Nuada tried to avoid the humans in the BPRD as much as possible and for the most part succeeded. Of course he sometimes had to team up with them when he was on a mission but that was business and it was usually over fairly quickly, though recently the missions seemed to be getting more frequent and more time-consuming, and were not always able to be brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

But Abe feared that was not the only problem facing them at present. He sighed as he thought about how the BPRD was to all appearances outwardly the same as ever but seemed awash with strange new undercurrents that created a vague unsettling atmosphere. With his psychic and empathetic abilities, Abe was especially sensitive to this but no one else seemed to have noticed it. He'd decided to keep quiet about it until he knew something more concrete.

It didn't help either that Manning seemed to be holding something back from them. The Bureau's Director had been deliberately vague on the circumstances surrounding the elven twins' resurrection and how he'd managed to gain Nuada's cooperation afterwards. The fact that he _had_ managed to do so left Abe with a bad feeling that all was not well there. Abe had been overjoyed when Manning sought him out and informed him of Nuala's return to life and he hadn't hesitated when Manning asked him to rejoin the BPRD. But it hadn't taken long for him to discover he didn't like being back in the organisation and he felt an urgent need to get Nuala away from there. However he couldn't do so until this latest threat had been dealt with and he desperately hoped the archivist's work would give them a lead on that.

They all understood why the Archives project needed to be undertaken - indeed it had been Abe's idea - and agreed it was their best chance of identifying and combating whatever this new threat might be, a threat that after all concerned Nuada's own world as well as that of the humans. But all the same, Abe felt uneasy about how the prince would react when he came face to face with the archivist. He didn't think it was going to be a pleasant meeting and given the importance of the project, he fervently hoped Nuada wouldn't do anything to scare the woman off. It was just as well he wasn't privy to the prince's thoughts at that moment.

**... ... ...**

Nuada was in the grip of a cold fury. He would do what he had to do, of course. This new threat to his own kind was entirely outside of his experience and he was as anxious as the humans and their "pets" to find out what was going on but that didn't mean he would make it easy for the human puppets of the BPRD. He felt as if he was wandering about lost in a thick fog – everything that had happened in the last four months was a complete mystery to him and it was as if _he_ was a puppet himself. It was an intolerable feeling! He had no idea how and why he and Nuala had been resurrected, and try as he might he could find nothing that would give him even the slightest hint of an answer. He was fairly certain Manning had nothing to do with their revival directly as that creeping toad only appeared after Nuada's consciousness had returned, and he adamantly denied all knowledge of their resurrection apart from the fact that a source had warned him it was about to happen. Manning wouldn't give any more details and just who could have been behind the whole thing was still entirely unknown to Nuada.

Thinking of Manning brought him to his other grievance: it was a great humiliation that a greedy, selfish, hollow creature like Manning had somehow obtained the rune stone and used it to force his oath and his allegiance. He knew Manning must have had some supernatural aid in obtaining the stone and learning how to use it, and Nuada spent a great deal of time here in the Archives trying to find out just what sort of help Manning could have had and how the power of the stone could be broken. If he could discover that information it would be a good start to working out what was going on... and setting things to rights again!

He was _not_ going to cede the room to the human while she carried out her work. Instead he would instil in her the proper measure of respect and fear for him from the outset, an easy enough task with such spineless creatures, and ensure she knew she was only there under sufferance. He would not let her interfere with his search in any way. His scowl deepened though as he recalled that Manning had asked Hellboy and his team to be present at this first meeting ... to act as bodyguards to the woman, and Manning himself no doubt, he supposed with a derisive sneer. Well, he'd just have to play a careful game in that case. But make no mistake – the archivist would have a very clear understanding of her lowly place in the greater scheme of things by the time he'd finished with her!

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

'Once more unto the breach' - Shakespeare's _Henry V, Act III_.

.

_Chapter posted 21st March 2012_


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 2**

By now the rest of Hellboy's team had arrived. Nuada stopped his pacing and took up position on the opposite side of the storeroom. His jaw hardened as he looked with disgust at the group assembled across from him. There they were, chattering away like magpies and feigning acceptance of their situation. He knew most of them were as little pleased to be here working for the BPRD as he was and yet they insisted on pretending otherwise in obedient deference to their human masters. The sooner this particular charade was over, the better. He leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes and deliberately shut out the noise of their false cheer.

"Why'd ya think Manning wanted us here to meet the old bird anyway?" asked Hellboy with more than a hint of impatience. "We got better things to do! Oww! What'd I do?" he asked Liz as she elbowed him in the side. "Oh," he said. Comprehension dawned as he followed her meaningful gaze in Nuada's direction.

He opened his mouth to speak again but Liz cut him off before he could make some comment that would annoy Nuada and start an argument. "Manning seemed to feel it would be... useful for us to meet her," she remarked dryly, "and it's probably not a bad idea considering the work she's doing for us. We might finally get a good lead on this problem, whatever it is!"

"Yeah," agreed Hellboy, reluctantly giving up the opportunity to bait the elven prince. "I guess the sooner we figure this out, the sooner we can leave and take the kids home."

When Manning had approached them to return to the BPRD four months ago after Nuada and Nuala had been revived, Hellboy and Liz had refused. They'd wanted nothing more to do with the organisation and, unlike Abe, saw no good reason to return simply because of the Elves' resurrection. However as reports of the strange and frightening shadow creatures started to reach them, they became sufficiently concerned to agree to a temporary return to the BPRD to help find out what was going on. They had to look to the future of their kids after all and they wanted to make sure the world would be a safe place for the children to grow up in. But they'd been back for two months now and the total lack of progress was frustrating for both of them. Neither Liz nor Hellboy wanted their family to spend any more time at the BPRD than was absolutely necessary and if this archivist could help speed things along, then they'd be only too happy to provide whatever assistance was needed.

"I think it was a brilliant idea to transcribe those collections into digital format Abe," Agent Myers was saying. "If we can get as many people as possible working on them, we might just find something to help us!" John Myers was the only one of the group who'd remained with the BPRD through everything but he understood and didn't begrudge that the others were keen to take care of this latest threat and then get back to the lives they'd made for themselves outside of the organisation.

"Thank you John," replied Abe, acknowledging the compliment. "I only hope it turns out to be an idea that bears some fruit."

"As do I Abraham," agreed Nuala. "I worry every time you go out on a mission. If I could know you were aware of the exact nature of the threat you were facing, it would make the waiting somewhat easier – at least that's my hope!"

Abe smiled fondly at her and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know. I hate to think I cause you even so much as a moment's anxiety. The sooner we know what we're facing, and better yet how to defeat it, the happier we'll all be. And you and I can then get as far away from here as possible and start anew somewhere else. That's _my_ hope!"

This last exchange penetrated Nuada's determined deafness and his golden eyes snapped open to stare with veiled dislike at his sister and _Abraham_. She was far too good for that creature and their sickening talk only debased her. It was bad enough that she'd sided with their father against him and then helped foil his plans for the Golden Army but to openly take up with one who was happy to serve humans, and moreover one who would be forever tainted by the fact that he had been fully human once , was almost beyond the pale. Nuada didn't want to examine too closely the wounds Nuala had left on his heart with her betrayals – they were still too raw and fresh and he doubted he'd gain anything from the exercise, except perhaps more pain. No longer able to bear the _charming_ sight of his sister and her lover, he shifted his gaze to the rest of the team. They might be the best chance there was of fighting whatever was going on but beyond that he had no use and no time for any of them.

**... ... ...**

Manning led Elfraine down a series of winding passages and stairs. She considered their meeting as she followed him. He seemed a typical bureaucrat and had been fairly easy to manage with smiles and an understanding manner so far. She didn't think he would cause her too many problems.

As they walked through the corridors, Elfraine noticed some strange and interesting artefacts and curios displayed discreetly along the way. They looked incongruous in the bland passageways, which were almost indistinguishable from one another and made her feel as though she should have taken a ball of string with her to find her way back. Instead she started to use the curios as markers of the route they were taking. Finally they arrived at a room that was set some distance apart from the other offices and spaces of the building. Manning held one of the heavy wooden doors open for her and she stepped over the threshold. The group within ceased talking at her entrance as they all turned to stare at her.

Elfraine's eyes were dazzled by a vivid mix of colour. Framed by floor-to-ceiling shelves of predominantly brown, grey and white files and boxes was a large red demon who stood with his arm around the shoulders of a pretty, slim woman dressed in black. The demon's horns looked as though they had been snapped off and Elfraine was curious as to the reason why. Standing next to the red and black pair was something that looked like a brown diving suit filled with smoke. She supposed there was a person in it but couldn't be him, or her, was an exquisite blue creature that seemed to be a cross between an amphibian and a man. He was standing close to a strikingly beautiful though strange-looking woman who had long, pale blonde hair, the whitest skin Elfraine had ever seen, and glowing golden eyes. Elfraine noticed that she also had unusual markings across her face and wondered what they were. Completing the group was a pleasant-looking young man conservatively dressed in a dark suit and tie. His normality contrasted starkly with the appearance of the others and made him unique amongst that group. She noted the usual reaction from the young man in the suit – he gazed at her with open admiration – but the reactions of the others were a bit more difficult to gauge. Still, time would tell, she thought to herself.

It was then that she noticed a tall, fierce-looking man dressed all in black and standing silently on the other side of the room, quite apart from the others. She was momentarily taken aback as he pierced her with the iciest look she'd ever encountered. He was a very handsome, masculine version of the strange, beautiful woman and, like her, was very striking. Elfraine guessed he was the elven prince who didn't want to share the Archives room with her and that the pale-haired woman was his sister. He was a disconcerting figure and she decided she was not terribly happy about the accommodations either – he certainly looked as if he could be a most meddlesome creature if he had a mind to be and she definitely didn't want him getting in her way. But Elfraine was prepared to be charming and do her best to win him over, reasoning that if she had to put up with him it would be wise to ensure he was not unfavourably disposed towards her.

She turned her attention back to Manning, who had just launched into his introduction. "I'd like you all to meet Miss Somerled. She's the archivist who'll be putting some of the books and records in our Archive into digital format over the next three months or so." There was a slight hesitation before he turned to the tall, fierce-looking elf and continued on. "Um... Miss Somerled, this is Prince Nuada – I, um, I told you about him earlier."

"Good morning Your Royal Highness," said Elfraine smoothly as she started forward with a very charming smile. She held out her hand to the prince as she repeated for the third time that morning, "But please call me Elfraine - or Elf if you prefer."

**... ... ...**

Nuada was brought up short when the archivist entered the storeroom. He sized her up in an instant, taking note of her hourglass figure, her angelic looks, and her large, sparkling brown eyes, which were so very, very full of life. In all the years he had walked this earth he couldn't remember having ever seen a human that was such an absolute abomination to his senses! He'd already detested her before they'd even met and now that she was standing there in front of him, so full of _human_ life and _human_ beauty, his loathing soared. He contemptuously thought that she would be easy to put in her place and considered her about as soft and useless-looking a human as he had ever seen. And then she spoke, giving him her name! On her it was an insult beyond imagining! Elfraine, or Elf Queen! He could have killed her then and there for that alone!

**... ... ...**

Elfraine's charming politeness only earned her a fierce scowl and the most sneering look she thought she'd ever encountered as the prince remained where he was and made no effort to meet her half way_**. **_For the second time that day some lines out of a favourite play from her youth sprung to mind: the elven prince certainly appeared to have a '_hard-favoured rage_' and his eyes most definitely had a '_terrible aspect_' but she doubted very much that he was disguising anything even remotely like a '_fair nature_'. She quickly surveyed the other occupants of the room. Apart from Manning, who seemed to be trying to find something to say, the rest of them were watching with interest and no one seemed at all surprised by the prince's rudeness nor at all inclined to intervene.

Elfraine's own temper started to rise at his discourtesy as the prince steadfastly refused to move or make the slightest acknowledgement of her existence apart from his sneering look. She quickly dropped her hand back to her side as she thought to herself, "Oh ho! So that's how it's to be!" He was obviously going to give no quarter to a pretty face and a charming smile and, guided by the lack of reaction from the others assembled, she took it as read that she could deal with him as she saw fit.

Meanwhile Manning seemed to have finally found the words he was searching for. "Um, as I said before Miss Somerled, Prince Nuada doesn't ah...have much time for humans and... well... you'll ... you'll be working here where he spends a lot of time... and... um... I... I hope you can work together... or sort something out..., or something," he finished miserably as he lost the words again.

His irritating, buzzing tones distracted Nuada for a moment and Manning was rewarded with one of the prince's wrathful looks for his trouble. Nuada then swung his gaze back to_ Miss Somerled_ and noted with grim satisfaction that he'd managed to cut off her greeting and wipe the smile off her face, and all without saying a word!

Manning, having lost whatever control of the situation he may have had, looked at Elfraine hopefully but he was clutching at straws because sadly for him she was not going to smile politely and ignore the prince's outright rudeness.

"I see," she replied in a far less friendly tone as she responded to Manning's inane uttering. Her own expression became somewhat contemptuous as she looked directly at the cold, silent creature staring disdainfully at her from the other side of the room.

That was too much for Nuada. The woman needed to be put in her place _now_ and, discarding his plan to play a careful game, he started forward and ground out in a low, chilling voice, "You see _nothing_, worthless hollow _human _that you are." The sneer on his face and the contempt he poured into his words left no doubt as to his profound hatred of her kind. He continued on. "In a world set to rights I would cut out your useless, empty eyes and then I would remove entirely the blot of your filthy existence from this earth." He was momentarily gratified to see her flinch with what he assumed was terror at his words and leaned back against the wall, his golden eyes glinting with cold fury as he deemed the foul specimen before him too insignificant to crush ... for now. But the choking bitterness of his humiliation quickly returned as he recalled that there was really no other course of action open to him in the present circumstances.

Manning cleared his throat anxiously and took a step backwards as all hope of an easy meeting fled. He looked to his last line of defence to say or do something but Hellboy merely stood there shaking his head at the prince's outburst and didn't appear the least bit inclined to come to Manning's rescue.

The others simply looked on with varying degrees of resignation at Nuada's invective. They were all of the opinion that his display of unyielding hatred would make the woman turn tail and run.

Elfraine surprised them all however as she merely arched an eyebrow at the menacing creature before her. "No, no, Sir!" she countered airily whilst gesturing in his general direction. She continued in cool, measured tones. "I do indeed comprehend the situation. For some reason, best known to yourself, you'd wipe humankind from the face of the Earth ... if that were at all possible. You must however refrain from pursuing your ... cause", this last said with the slightest of sneers, "because you're bound both by concern for your sister and an oath prised from your unwilling self by the good people of the BPRD. There's nothing too difficult to grasp in that." She paused ever so slightly before moving in to deliver the killing blow with concise efficiency. "They have, in effect, gelded you."

An unnatural stillness fell upon the room as the others froze into a tableau of horrified fascination, awaiting Nuada's inevitable reaction to such a forthright and stark summation of his circumstances. It was not long in coming.

"What!" he rasped through clenched teeth as her words shattered his icy self-control. He pushed himself off the wall and took a threatening step forward in both rage and utter disbelief at being addressed in such a fashion, and by a member of what was, he was certain, the lowest species in Creation.

Refusing to be intimidated by his ferocious countenance and deliberately misunderstanding his meaning, Elfraine gave the prince an enquiring look before explaining helpfully and patiently, and with only the merest hint of condescension, "They have rendered you impotent, Sir."

"WHAT!" he roared, as he flamed into an inferno of offended outrage and stood poised to spring on the interloper and rip her into a thousand pieces with his bare hands.

Helpful patience ebbed and Elfraine raised her own voice a tone or two. "God's Blood!" she swore in exasperation. "I cannot make it any plainer – they've cut off your bollocks and strung them from the battlements ... metaphorically speaking of course," she tailed off, her demeanour quite cavalier by now. "You'll have to ask someone else to explain it to you Sir if you're still unable to comprehend my meaning!" she drawled. She then ran her eyes up and down the length of him with a dismissive look and gave the speechless and furious elf her back as she turned to continue her conversation with Manning and complete the introductions to the rest of the room.

That, of course, was something of a mistake. If speech failed Nuada, action certainly did not. He crossed the space between them in the blink of an eye and in short order had her pinned to the opposite wall of the room. She was suspended about a foot or so above the ground, held there by one hand as his fingers bit savagely into her neck and started to choke her. Just as quickly, Nuala was at his side. She placed a restraining hand on his arm and pleaded in a low voice, "Brother! Please! Remember your oath! Let her be. She's not worth breaking it over."

Nuada threw his sister a fierce look and shook off her hand before turning back to the woman. Elfraine felt his breath on the side of her neck as he leaned in close to her and whispered chillingly, "Now, say your last prayers! You'll not get another chance!" He decided he was going to enjoy eviscerating her.

But Nuala persisted in her pleading, "Nuada! She is so far beneath you – don't let her goad you into breaking your word of honour. It would only be one more weight to drag on your soul! Stay your hand brother!" She captured and held his eyes as she begged, "Please!"

Where once he had welcomed his sister's calming influence Nuada now bitterly resented it. However he still had a bond of sorts with her, reluctant and weakened though it was, and he grudgingly felt the truth of her words. The red cloud of rage began to recede and he drew a shuddering breath as he reined in his passion. He summarily dropped the disgusting human creature to the ground and turned towards Nuala.

Elfraine landed awkwardly and fell to her knees gasping for air but had the presence of mind to scramble quickly to her feet and put as much distance as possible between herself and the murderous elf.

Nuada meanwhile simply exchanged an agonised look with his sister before turning on his heel and making for the door. By now he had Hellboy's mocking laughter ringing in his ears and he paused only to throw a look of such frightening malice at Elfraine that it was abundantly clear to all she'd attracted for herself a special measure of his hatred for the human race.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

'Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;' – Shakespeare, _Henry V, __Act III__._

_._

_Chapter posted 21st March 2012_


	4. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 3**

After Nuada had left the room, Elfraine simply shrugged her shoulders and remarked dryly, "That wasn't a particularly promising start. I think it'll have to be opposite ends of the room for us!"

Her apparent unconcern over her near-death experience at Nuada's hands caused the others to silently question whether she was in entire possession of her mind.

Elfraine merely continued, "Director Manning, perhaps you'd like to continue with the introductions."

Manning was absolutely flustered after such a disastrous start and gratefully snatched at the opportunity to get things back on a more civilised footing. He continued on as Elfraine had suggested.

First up was the large red demon. Hellboy slapped her on the back in a well-meaning but none too gentle fashion as he said, still highly amused, "I think you and me will get along just fine! If you need any help sorting out that pompous-assed elf, I'm your demon!"

"You have my thanks Sir Demon," she murmured as she recovered her balance. "Your generous offer is most reassuring." He certainly cut a powerful and imposing figure and Elfraine decided that for all his affability with her just now, it would be unwise to make an enemy of him. She'd already made one for the day, though she hadn't started out with that intention, and it would be foolish of her to engage in a repeat performance with the demon. Luckily for her though Hellboy was friendly enough and polite enough, and did nothing which might tempt her to sharpen her wit and tongue on him.

Next was the pretty, slim dark-haired woman. "This is Liz Sherman," said Manning.

"Nice to meet you Miss Somerled," said Liz with a smile. She'd already decided she quite liked the archivist's cool nerve.

"Likewise Miss Sherman," Elfraine replied with an answering smile as she took Liz's outstretched hand.

"Liz is a pyrokinetic – she can make and control fire," Manning explained.

"Oh, that's most impressive ... and most useful too I've no doubt!" exclaimed Elfraine with sincere admiration.

"Yeah, it does have its uses," agreed Liz with another smile. "And like Red says, if you need a hand with anything just yell out."

"This is Dr Johann Kraus," continued Manning as he turned to the man encased in what looked like an old-fashioned diving suit.

Elfraine searched the glass of his helmet for a face but could still only see smoke behind the surface. "Gutentag Fräulein," he said in a precise clipped German accent as he gave her a slight bow.

"Gutentag Doktor," she replied and inclined her head in return before looking at Manning with a questioning look.

Manning quickly explained, "Dr Kraus has an ectoplasmic form. The suit really gives him a more... recognisable form. He's one of our most efficient and professional agents."

"You're obviously very unique Doktor, and held in high esteem by your colleagues," said Elfraine with great interest.

"You flatter me Fräulein," returned Kraus.

Manning turned next to the young man in the dark suit. "You'll probably be working most closely with Agent Myers here," Manning informed her. "He's very familiar with the Archives room so if you need anything just see him."

"I look forward to working with you Agent Myers," said Elfraine with a smile as she shook his hand.

"If there's anything I can help you with, don't hesitate to ask Miss Somerled," he offered with an open, friendly smile in return.

"Please Agent Myers, call me Elfraine," she said, wondering if the third time would prove the charm and someone in the BPRD would finally say her Christian name.

"Uh, ok, Elfraine," said Agent Myers with another smile. "And please, call me John."

"Very well John," she replied, happy to have at last found someone who was prepared to observe a social nicety or two.

Manning then moved on to the blue amphibian-man who was one of the most extraordinary creatures Elfraine had ever seen. "Agent Sapien here is also fairly familiar with the archives," Manning informed her. "In fact, it was his idea to put the collections and files into digital format."

"Pleased to meet you Miss Somerled," said Abe in his smooth, cultured voice as he held out his hand in greeting.

"Likewise Agent Sapien," replied Elfraine as she took his hand. But almost as soon as she touched him she dropped it. She'd had the most vivid and unsettling feeling that he was inside her mind but she could make no sense of it. "Would you care to explain that Agent Sapien?" she asked in a slightly hardened tone.

He seemed embarrassed at that, or at least she thought he did – it was difficult to tell, but to his credit he made no attempt to prevaricate. "I apologise Miss Somerled," he said politely. "I have psychic and empathetic abilities and it's not always easy to control them. I meant no intrusion."

"I'm sure you didn't sir," she murmured in response. "That's an interesting talent you have but you'll no doubt understand if I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself."

"Of course," he replied. Abe was in fact somewhat shocked by the brief glimpse he'd had of her mind. It was everything and nothing – a vast, black expanse that was filled with an almost unbearable sound and left him feeling as if he'd been oppressed by a great weight. He gave her a perplexed look as she moved on.

Manning paused as he turned to the only person who had not yet been introduced. "This is Princess Nuala ... she's the prince's sister," he added unnecessarily as Nuala stared coolly at the woman who had just antagonised her brother and only added to his sense of humiliation.

"Yes, I rather gathered that Director Manning," replied Elfraine who at least had the grace to look somewhat abashed as she faced the princess. "Your Royal Highness, please forgive my part in that unpleasant scene with your brother. I'm well aware that tact and diplomacy are not strong points with me and can only apologise for the distress I caused you. It was entirely unintended Ma'am," she finished, sinking into a graceful curtsey in acknowledgement of Nuala's rank.

The respect and courtesy Elfraine managed to inject into her apology did not entirely placate Nuala but they were enough to enable the princess to respond with equal politeness, "Very well _Miss Somerled_, I'll forgive you this time. As you note, you weren't the only one at fault in your exchange with my brother. I trust that in future you'll make an effort to get on peaceably with him whilst you carry out your work here."

"I'll try my best to do as you command Ma'am," replied Elfraine dryly. "In any further dealings with His Highness I shall endeavour to remember that discretion is undoubtedly the better part of valour."

"Good! At the very least it may well ensure your continued existence!" rejoined the princess somewhat acerbically before she too turned and left the room, closely followed by Abe.

**... ... ...**

Nuada furiously paced the small sitting room of his suite, or more accurately his cell for that was all it was to him. He was seething with a rage that had been too long held in and at that moment he desired nothing more than to mete out a prolonged and painful death to the abominable _human_ who had thrown such disrespectful and ill-advised words in his face. He turned his oath over and over again in his mind, trying to find something that would give him a waiver so he could act on that desire. He took some comfort from the fact that Manning hadn't had the cunning to force him to abandon his quest to restore his people to their rightful place in the world – that was the only anchor he had at the moment.

But Manning had used the blasted rune stone and binding spell to compel him to forswear his vengeance the human race and promise not to destroy any of them. That left a bitter taste in his mouth for it put him in an impossible position; he didn't see how he could achieve his quest by any _other_ means – humans were incapable of sharing the world with his people and that left him with only one option. And now that infernal promise meant a filthy piece of human scum would in all likelihood escape the punishment she deserved for her transgressions. Surely his oath was not intended to cover such a situation. Indeed, on two of the missions he'd undertaken for the BPRD over the past four months it had been necessary to kill humans who'd been working for those forces the Bureau sought to defeat. No one had blinked an eye when he did just that, and the rune stone and spell hadn't prevented him from killing them. But, he reasoned, those humans had no doubt placed themselves outside the protection afforded by his promise because of their aggressive actions.

At that thought, Nuada suddenly stopped pacing. His lips curled in a slow, deadly smile and his eyes gleamed with an unholy light. The _human woman_, by her foolish words and taunting, had placed herself outside the protection afforded by his promise. They could not surely expect him to stay his hand in the face of such obvious aggression, albeit aggression clothed in artful words. From there it was only a short step to decide that killing her would not violate his oath at all – he could do so without impugning his honour. A savage satisfaction coursed through his veins as he convinced himself he'd found his waiver, and he set about planning his vengeance with a single-minded determination. It was a small triumph, granted, but it was the first in a long time and it would have to do for now. It also, more interestingly, gave him some hint of how he might deal with the matter of his promise to Manning.

**... ... ...**

Elfraine bent down and tied the laces on her walking shoes then stood up and took one last look around the room before she closed it up for the day. It was fairly late in the evening but she felt reasonably satisfied with most of her first day's work. The introductions to Prince Nuada and Princess Nuala aside, everything else had gone quite well. The rest of the BPRD agents and staff were a fairly friendly if strange crew, and the technicians had managed to set up the computer and scanning equipment without too many hitches. Also, from her brief examination of the archives, she could see that she stood a good chance of finding the final item she needed to complete her own business. She'd spent years searching out what was required and was now so very close to setting out on what would, in all likelihood, be her final journey. It was a wholly unexpected piece of good luck that had led her to this promising collection and she wasn't going to let anyone or anything get in her way. God willing, she would find what she sought somewhere amongst the pages of one of the books on these shelves. Elfraine deliberately closed her mind to the possibility that she might not.

On a brighter note, she hadn't seen the prince since their earlier rather unfortunate meeting and hoped that meant he'd decided to cede the Archives Storeroom to her for the duration of the project. It would certainly make things much easier from all points of view. But just in case he wasn't going to do anything so sensible, she'd spent a small part of the day arranging a space for each of them as far apart as possible. If he was going to insist on staking his claim to the Archives room she decided she would just ignore him no matter how tempted she might be to put him in his place. He could sit in splendid isolation at the other end of the room and glare to his heart's content. On that cheering thought she switched off the lights and closed the door.

Walking along the winding corridors to the main entrance, Elfraine smiled in greeting to the few agents who were still about the place. She was glad she'd taken the care to note the way out by using the artefacts on display as reference points otherwise she might well have spent the entire night wandering lost in the huge building. Once or twice she had the uneasy feeling that someone or something was watching her from the shadows but when she turned around to check her eyes only met the cold, unseeing visage of an old Celtic stone head. She smiled and chided herself for being so fanciful.

After pausing to bid farewell to the security guard at the front door she then walked out into the evening. It was late autumn and the chill in the air signalled winter's approach. She buttoned her coat and turned her collar up against the night before continuing on towards home, which was not quite an hour away by foot. She soon reached the bottom of the hill then cut through the park before entering a series of narrow streets and alleyways that led to her warehouse apartment.

She was just musing that she'd been fortunate to find the spacious, old apartment, which was above an import/export business specialising in antiques, when Elfraine again had the uneasy feeling of being watched. Suddenly, her head was jerked backwards as someone violently grabbed a fistful of her hair and spun her round roughly. She found herself looking up into the fierce face of the elven prince - he was obviously not going to cede anything to her, let alone the BPRD Archives Storeroom. Although not normally given to fear, she felt a chill of apprehension as she met his killing gaze and thought to herself that this was not going to be pleasant. And then there was no more time for thinking.

"Oww," she shrieked as he yanked painfully on her hair. "Might I remind you of the small matter of an oath," she managed to get out before he savagely backhanded her across the face with his free hand, splitting her lip and forcing her to her knees.

A large chunk of her hair came out in his other hand as she went down, causing him to momentarily release his grip on her. He flung the hair off before hauling her back to her feet and ferociously shaking her as if she were a prey animal caught in his maw. He then slammed her brutally into the wall of the alley, allowing himself a cold smile of satisfaction as her head connected with the brickwork with a sickening thud and then lolled forward. Nuada could have ended her life at any moment but he wasn't going to let her escape the full measure of suffering she deserved. Instead he pinned her to the wall with the weight of his body and turned to beckon to a figure in the shadows behind him.

Elfraine's head was reeling. The elf seemed to have superhuman strength and his blows were taking a toll on her. However she had survived worse and she would survive this. She managed to look past his shoulder to see who or what he was summoning and her heart sank at the sight. A large, lean, fearsome goblin-like creature emerged from out of the shadows. It had long, sharp dagger-like talons and a mouthful of nasty-looking teeth... and it was eyeing her with what could only be described as a very hungry look. This _really_ wasn't going to be nice! She briefly thought about putting up a fight but decided against it. All that would do was prolong the inevitable and gain her nothing except more pain - she didn't have any weapons and in these close quarters she wouldn't stand a chance against two such fearsome opponents without them.

Another chilling smile flitted over Nuada's features as he noted the look in Elfraine's eyes when the cabalus stepped forward. "For one who was so talkative earlier today, you don't seem to have much to say now _human_," he taunted sneeringly. "Perhaps my friend here can get a response out of you," he said in a deadly voice as he stepped back and thrust her towards the creature, which was now standing beside them and waiting expectantly.

She fell against it and it immediately dug the talons of one hand into her shoulder holding her firmly in place as it slashed across her chest and abdomen with its other hand, slicing through skin and muscle to lay open her chest and stomach. Blood sprayed out freely and splattered both the creature and Nuada, and Elfraine bit her lip to stop her instinctive cry of pain as agony ripped through every nerve in her body.

The elf gave a growl of disgust and stepped away from the cabalus and its human prey. "Enjoy your meal my friend... and make it last," he instructed the creature before sneering triumphantly one last time at the pathetic piece of human meat. He then turned and swiftly left the scene without a backwards glance.

**... ... ...**

Nuada returned to BPRD Headquarters and stealthily made his way back in without being seen. It really wasn't very hard at all – the human guards were laughably easy to get past! He didn't even need to conceal himself with a glamour. Once back in his room, he washed the blood from himself and set about cleaning his clothing, and armour. By the Gods! The human had certainly bled enough in the few short moments it took for the cabalus to shred her innards! But eventually her blood was washed off everything and he retired to his bed. It had been a good evening's work and for a welcome change his dreams that night were relatively undisturbed by the dark thoughts and visions that usually haunted them.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_Chapter posted 27th March 2012  
><em>


	5. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 4**

The next morning Nuada made his way to the Archives Storeroom. He was looking forward to the peace and quiet although he supposed there'd be some fuss to put up with when it was discovered the archivist wasn't at work and no one could contact her. It was likely that whatever was left of her would be found before too long and news of her death would eventually reach Manning's ears. But they'd find nothing to tie her death to him and though they might suspect him there'd be nothing they could do, except perhaps ensure the next archivist knew her place before she started.

He opened the door to the Archives room with a satisfied smile on his face and walked in. His smile quickly disappeared though as he saw the human had obviously rearranged the room in the time she'd been there yesterday. The woman had been dead for almost twelve hours and she still managed to annoy him! It was of no matter though - the room would be easily put back to the way it had been before her intrusion. He walked up to the chair at the far end of the room, picked it up and turned around to carry it back to its original place behind the door... and froze!

Nuada couldn't believe the sight that met his eyes and a mind-numbing confusion beset him. For sitting at a desk which had been placed against the wall behind the door and looking very much alive and well was Elfraine Somerled, and there was nothing charming or winning about her as she sat back and stared at him with a cold look of outright contempt. He quickly recovered his wits and flung the chair aside before swiftly drawing the dagger tucked into the crimson sash around his waist. He took a fighting stance, ready to meet whatever threat this was. That it _was_ a threat was about the only thing he was certain of at the moment and he did not like being caught so unawares.

"Dear me, _Your Royal Highness_," sneered Elfraine. "You seem mightily upset about something. I do hope it wasn't anything _I_ said or did _Sir_," she purred with patently false sincerity. "By the way, I didn't think much of your friend last night. He was too free with his hands and teeth!"

Nuada found his voice. "What is this?" he demanded fiercely. "The cabalus killed you last night!" He fought the urge to rub his eyes.

"Yes, but it obviously wasn't for very long!" she replied in a tone of cold sarcasm.

"What manner of creature are you? And why do you disguise yourself as a human?" Nuada realised that was another thing he was now certain of. It puzzled him that he hadn't seen through her glamour sooner though. "What's going on here? Explain yourself quickly before I carve you into pieces!" he threatened.

"As your friend did last night?" asked Elfraine in a hard tone. "_He_ was obviously not very successful then! What on earth makes you think _you'll_ have any better luck now?" she asked contemptuously.

The creature had a point, Nuada thought to himself. She was clearly protected by some great magic but he would have an explanation from her one way or another. His mind worked furiously to find a way to compel her to answer his questions and then it came to him. "Last night you weren't at all capable of defending yourself. I somehow doubt _you'll_ have any better luck now either!" he said triumphantly as he turned her words back on her. "And it seemed too last night that you were not immune to pain so unless you've a liking for it, I suggest you start talking!"

Elfraine's expression grew even more contemptuous at that. She swiftly rose from her seat and advanced on him. "You despicable creature!" she sneered. "You're nothing but a dishonourable coward and a bully! You break your oath as easily as you draw breath and then viciously attack someone who is obviously no match for you, and now you threaten torture simply to get your own way! You're beneath contempt and I'll be damned if you get _any_ answers from me!" she finished as she stopped at arm's length from him and stared up scornfully into his face.

"We'll see about that," returned Nuada coldly, quickly tamping down the sting of both the slur she cast on his honour and her charge of cowardice. "I _will_ have answers from you," he stated confidently as he walked around her, examining her. She seemed to be in control of her temper again and he continued to circle, as though looking for another crack through which he could force his way in to discover her secrets. He decided the threat of pain was still his best bet though she hadn't shown any fear when he'd used it a few moments ago.

"I am certain the cabalus killed, and most likely ate you last night," he said, noting with satisfaction that he'd struck a nerve as she involuntarily shuddered at the memory. "So the question is: how is it you stand before me now? What arcane knowledge do you possess, and why are you here?" he asked in a deceptively soft voice as he stopped directly behind her. He suddenly grabbed her around the shoulders and pinned her back against him, holding his dagger to her throat. "Tell me now or I'll carve my name into your face and take my time doing it!" he demanded in a much harsher tone.

Elfraine merely laughed off the threat. "And by the time you got to the last letter the others would've simply disappeared. Carve away _brave_ prince! If you think the threat of pain will force my hand, you're sadly mistaken."

Nuada growled in frustration at that and released her, spinning her round to face him. If her claim was true he'd have to try another tack. Perhaps if he could find out what sort of creature she was he would be able to then work out what magic might be involved. "You're obviously no weak, spineless human," he began.

"I am most definitely human," she broke in, forgetting her vow not to give him any answers.

He ignored that. She was merely trying to throw him off the scent. "Perhaps you're a witch, or maybe a shape shifter," he guessed, knowing full well she wasn't but hoping to lull her into a false sense of security.

"No, no," she assured him. "I'm quite human."

"Or an angel," he carried on, as if she hadn't spoken.

"Well, I've been compared to one in the past," Elfraine admitted, "but the comparisons were purely poetic."

Nuada sneered at that and gave her a chilling look of dislike. "Perhaps then you're a demon!" he tried, watching closely for any reaction which might give her away.

She again admitted, "As it happens I've been called that too. Disappointment can cause people to become so... harsh."

Nuada threw her a look of disgust and wondered aloud, "Is it possible you're Undead?" At that thought, his lips curled in pure disdain. "If so, I'll grant that you would have been human once, though there's not much to pick between the two!" He looked at her with narrowed eyes and said coldly, as he raised his dagger and pointed it at her heart, "It would also mean that I _can_ dispose of you! Perhaps the cabalus didn't eat the right part last night!"

Elfraine merely gave a snort of contempt. "No, I'm quite sure he did but by all means carry out your experiment if you must. I warn you though, it's doomed to fail and will only make a bloody mess. Oh, and it'll also give me another tale to carry back to your human masters," she added nastily as she placed her hands on her hips and made a clear target of her breast.

Nuada was sorely tempted to do as she invited, especially after her taunt about human masters, but she was obviously not one of the Undead and, as she pointed out, it would be a waste of time. What then was she? He was rapidly running out of plausible options.

Elfraine saw the uncertainty in his golden eyes and asked in a tone of hard amusement, "Why do you have so much difficulty accepting that I'm human?"

"No mere human could command the power to hold death at bay! They are too greedy, selfish, and stupid to work such great magic as you have," he sneeringly informed her.

Elfraine's temper rose somewhat at that. "On the contrary _Sir,_ I'm quite possibly one of the _most_ greedy, selfish, and stupid humans that has ever lived! That's why I'm four hundred and thirty two years old and that's why I cannot die!" she snapped at him. "My existence disproves everything you've just said and exposes your own ignorance of what _is_ and what is _not_ possible!"

He was momentarily taken aback. Could she be telling the truth? "What do you mean?" he demanded, as he stored away the information she'd inadvertently let slip.

Elfraine realised she'd said more than she intended and quickly went on the attack. "I'm done with this conversation _Your Highness_! I'd suggest that if you don't want me to expose your dishonourable and cowardly act of last night to your human masters, you absent yourself from this room while I'm working here!" It wasn't the most compelling of threats but it was the only one she had and so she used it.

Nuada's eyes narrowed in annoyance but he was not about to back down. "I will most certainly _not_ give you free rein while you work here! _I_ won't expose _your_ secrets to anyone... for the moment! But rest assured _human_, I'll keep a very close eye on you. And make no mistake, I _will_ discover the source of your powers and then I'll destroy both them and you!"

Elfraine gave him a venomous look at that and opened her mouth to make a rejoinder. However she snapped it shut as the door to the Archives room opened and Abe and John walked in.

They were surprised to see Nuada and Elfraine in the same room and apparently having a conversation of some sort. However they quickly noticed the air of tension and Abe asked, with some concern, "Is everything all right?"

Elfraine was the first to recover her composure. "Yes, thank you Agent Sapien. We were merely having a slight disagreement over the placement of furniture in the room. It's nothing that a little compromise won't resolve. In fact _His Highness_ was just about to graciously accede to my way of ordering things when you walked in," she explained, giving Abe and John a bright smile before turning to throw Nuada a challenging look, which the others couldn't see.

A fleeting whisper of memory stirred in his mind at that look but it vanished in the next instant and Nuada scowled openly at her, giving lie to her claim and making it clear he was not about to accede to anything, graciously or otherwise. He picked up the chair he'd flung aside earlier and put it down in a position that was closer to her desk than she liked. Turning back to her he said, or rather commanded, "Don't let me distract you from your work any longer _human_! I have enquiries of my own to make!" So saying, he walked over to one of the shelves, found the book he was looking for, and sat down in the chair and started reading.

Elfraine craned her neck to see the title. "Lemegeton!" she murmured under her breath, with a faint tone of derision. "You won't find me amongst the 72 Demons of Ars Goetia but feel free to waste your time _prince_," she muttered smugly to herself. She was taken somewhat aback when Nuada looked up sharply at that and gave her a fierce look before returning to his reading. It occurred to her that in addition to superhuman strength, elves apparently had quite good hearing and she wondered what other attributes they might possess. At that thought she announced to the room at large, "Yes, I too have personal enquiries to make... in my spare time of course. As we'll be sharing this room, I'll make it my business to find out as much about elves as I can. I would hate to _unwittingly _cause any offence to His Royal Highness!" That earned her another dark scowl from Nuada before he returned to his reading once again.

Abe and John looked on with some confusion at this exchange and wondered at Nuada and Elfraine being on speaking terms, albeit not very friendly speaking terms. Still, the prince had spent some time alone with Miss Somerled and had obviously not attacked or murdered her so they took heart from that and turned their attention to the reason for their visit.

"Elfraine," John started to say. He paused slightly as he was interrupted by a hiss of indrawn breath from Nuada before continuing on. "We thought you'd like some help today. Abe and I can point out the volumes it might be best to start with and fill you in on what we'd like you to look out for and why. I know you won't have time to read the works in any detail but if you could keep watch for certain things it would be a big help to us. The more eyes we have on this the better."

"Of course John," replied Elfraine with one of her charming smiles. "I would be most glad of any assistance and direction you gentlemen can provide." She laid a very slight emphasis on the word 'gentlemen' and slid Nuada a sideways look as she did so.

It was not lost on him that a gentleman was the last thing she considered him to be, and he thought with a fierce certainty that a gentleman was in fact the last thing he would ever _want_ to be!

**... ... ...**

Elfraine sighed as she closed up the room for the evening. Once again, it had been a fairly long day – especially after the events of last night. But it had also been a most interesting day. She'd learnt a lot more about the project she was carrying out for the BPRD and was intrigued by Abe and John's account of what had been occurring around the world for the past six months or so. It wasn't something she could say she'd noticed but then she'd been more concerned with her own business than with the general state of affairs in the world. Perhaps she should've been paying more attention. She would need to think carefully about what the strange occurrences might possibly mean for her, if anything. The reports of spreading darkness and shadows that devoured light, and even magic, were disturbing but would hopefully not affect her quest in any way. What happened after that wasn't something that particularly concerned her.

Far more likely to cause her trouble was the vicious and meddlesome Prince Nuada! She realised she'd miscalculated in challenging him - it wasn't often she made such a misstep. It would have been better if she'd doffed her cap and tugged her forelock so to speak but the time for that had passed and, she thought with real regret, hindsight was a marvellous thing indeed. His attack last night had been agonising. She shuddered at the memory of the cabalus's tearing teeth and talons before quickly putting a stop to that line of thought. It was one of the more extreme forms of death that had been visited upon her in the past four hundred-odd years but really when all was said and done, it was nothing new. And while such experiences could never kill her, she hoped they could at least make her stronger. Anyway, one valuable thing had come out of last night's events - she at least had the elf's measure now and knew what he was capable of.

Still, she hoped that if he occupied himself with enough false leads he wouldn't hinder her in the furtherance of her own project. When she'd last surreptitiously checked, he'd been almost at the end of the third part of the Lemegeton, the Ars Paulina. She smirked as she thought of how annoyed he'd been when he'd put the book down for the day and stalked out of the room with a fierce frown on his face. He obviously hadn't found any description of her among the demons, aerial spirits and angels of the first three parts, which she knew would be the case. She'd searched that text and others like it when she first commenced her quest and had found nothing of any use to her. The information contained in them was undoubtedly useful for some purposes but not for hers, and not for the prince's.

She realised with annoyance that he would be a relentless opponent and that she'd have to keep a tighter rein on her temper. It would not do to inadvertently let anything slip as she had earlier. That might provide the hint he needed to set him on the right path with respect to herself. Elfraine was fairly certain that even if he did set out on that path it would do him no good anyway and he'd have no luck finding a way to destroy the magic that had hold of her but, she reasoned, there was no need to make things easy for him. "Know thy enemy," she muttered to herself as she left the building and ventured out into the evening air. With that thought in mind she'd searched the main library of the BPRD and found some Old English and Old Norse writings on elves, and she now started for home and a bit of light bed-time reading.

**... ... ...**

Nuada swung his sword upwards in a close blocking move and then thrust it forward to dispatch an imaginary opponent. He was exceptionally annoyed and was attempting to work off some of his anger with a training session. The _human_ was right, he thought with disgust, if shewas indeed human as she claimed! It had been a complete waste of time reading the Lemegeton. There was nothing in that tome that came even remotely close to giving him any insight into the source or nature of her powers. He suspected he'd find the same with the other books in the BPRD collections and decided he'd have to cast his net wider if he was to solve that particular puzzle. In the meantime though, when he next visited the Troll Market he'd have to search out the cabalus and get his version of what had happened after he'd left him to finish off the human woman.

Nuada stopped and sighed as he pushed back a long strand of hair that had escaped its bonds and fallen across his face. There was enough to do with discovering what lay behind his and Nuala's resurrection, finding out the secret of Manning's rune stone, and dealing with the strange and worrying new threat to his world. The last thing he needed was another puzzle to take up his time and attention. Still, in some ways time _was_ on his side and he _would_ win out over them all in the end. All things considered, Miss Somerled and Manning were relatively minor irritations and after he had disposed of them he would turn his attention to the main threats – the elusive new foe and the old familiar enemy. He would defeat them and restore _his_ kind to their rightful place in the world... by whatever means necessary.

He was less certain about what to do concerning his and Nuala's return to life, assuming there was anything he could do, and decided that for the moment he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. The thought of his sister reminded him, as if he could ever forget it, of the great gulf that now lay between them and he had absolutely _no_ idea what to do about that. He could only put his heartache and bitterness aside for the moment, and concentrate on those things he _could_ fight. And this time he would make sure that a certain red demon did _not_ get in his way. He sheathed his sword, picked up his shirt and left the training room with a hard and determined look on his face.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Lemegeton: The _Lesser Key of Solomon_ or _Clavicula Salomonis Regis_ - an anonymous 17th-century grimoire, and one of the most popular books of demonology. Much of its content was taken from texts of the 16th century, including the _Pseudomonarchia Daemonum_ by Johann Weyer, and late-medieval grimoires. Some of the material in the first section, concerning the summoning of demons, dates to the 14th century or earlier.

.

_Chapter posted 27th March 2012  
><em>


	6. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 5**

Elfraine finished reading a poem in the book that had distracted her from her search and leaned her head against the wall of the small room that sat to one side of the library. She stared up at the skylight but the rain-spattered glass fractured her view of the dull, grey sky, which pressed in around the city. She was on her lunch break and had decided to spend the time looking through the library. The sooner she found the map she needed, the sooner she could start on what she was certain would be her final journey – a journey which would see her try to put right a wrong she'd committed over four hundred years ago. It was something she had to do. The twin blades of guilt and grief were stuck fast in her heart and she'd carried their cutting weight these past four centuries. The thought of bearing it for all eternity was unendurable – time most definitely did _not_ heal all wounds. Each passing year only wound her sorrow more tightly into the fibre of her being and with nothing left to lose she was determined to end it one way or another_**.**_

She shook her head at the turn her thoughts were taking. She'd already spent years endlessly traversing this ground and she knew she gained nothing by going over it again. Though the two were inseparable, her focus needed to be on what she must do now and not on what she'd already done. She straightened her shoulders and put her low, introspective mood down to the weather as she turned her mind back to her search. So far she'd had no luck finding the map but it was early days yet and she had some time up her sleeve. It was, after all, only her fourth day working for the BPRD.

Elfraine had arrived at work the previous day to find the building almost deserted. Along with the few scientific, medical and administrative staff who worked there, only a skeleton staff of agents was left at the Bureau. In fact the only person she'd seen yesterday was John Myers, who'd spent some time helping her with the Archives project. He mentioned in passing that there'd been an influx of reports over a period of about twelve hours and the need to respond to them had sent most of their agents out into the field. John also told her that Manning had taken Hellboy's team, of which Nuada was a member, to Station Nord on the north-eastern coast of Greenland to investigate reports of strange incidents at the military and scientific base. Elfraine was pleased at that news. She hadn't been looking forward to dealing with the elven prince again and was glad of the unexpected respite. It gave her some time and space to concentrate on her own business rather than being constrained and sidetracked by his hostile and interfering presence.

A noise at the door leading from the library distracted her from her musings and Elfraine looked over to see Princess Nuala standing hesitantly at the threshold. She got the impression the princess would have quietly retreated if she could. "Your Highness," she said in polite acknowledgment of the elven woman. "Please don't let me put you off entering. I'm about to return to work and will leave you in possession of the library shortly." So saying, Elfraine stood up and passed Nuala as she walked back into the library to return her book to the shelves.

Nuala inclined her head slightly and followed Elfraine out, noting with surprise that Miss Somerled appeared to like poetry. Her impression of the human woman at their first meeting had not been good and she wouldn't have given her credit for possessing the sensibility to appreciate such works but it seemed she was wrong in thinking that.

It suddenly occurred to Nuala that she had an opportunity now to prove her worth to Abraham and the others at the BPRD. She was always the one who waited and no one ever seemed to expect her to do anything particularly useful. They all treated her as if she was a fragile creature who would break at the slightest pressure instead of someone who knew her own mind and was prepared to do what she thought was right no matter the cost to herself. It _was_ wonderful to be cherished so much by Abraham and know that she had such good friends and allies but at times it felt suffocating, and in some ways they didn't seem to know her at all.

Even her brother, with whom she'd once shared such a close bond, didn't seem to know what she was truly capable of, although after her actions in the cave of the Golden Army he must surely have a fair idea now. She would never be the warrior Nuada was but she could use a knife and a bow, and could make a good fist of defending herself if she had to. She was also skilled in the intrigues and politics of courtly life and saw a chance now with Miss Somerled to put those skills to use.

Abraham had shared his puzzlement with her about what he'd seen and felt when he was introduced to the archivist, and Nuala thought she might be able to find out something more about the human woman that could help. With this aim in mind she asked Elfraine in a tone of polite interest, "What are you reading on this dull day Miss Somerled?"

Elfraine looked over at Nuala – it was her turn to be surprised. She was well aware she hadn't made a favourable first impression with the princess and wouldn't have thought the elf would bother engaging in even polite conversation with her. It would be interesting to see where this went and, moreover, find out why the princess felt inclined to talk to her now. It also occurred to Elfraine that she might be able to put Nuala to good use. After reading the books she'd borrowed on elves the other night, she had some questions she was interested in finding answers to.

Elfraine paused by the shelf and held up the poetry book as she replied to the princess's question. "Oh, I spied the title of this collection - "Medieval Lyrics" - and was reminded of a work that, to me at least, always seems somewhat fitting for wet, grey, melancholy days such as this."

"Please, share it Miss Somerled," requested Nuala with real interest this time. She too felt the melancholy air of the day. In fact "melancholy" was a good description of her mood most of the time these days. She had no idea why she felt so low when she had so much to be thankful for and thought it might perhaps have something to do with the unresolved situation with her brother. She hadn't talked properly with him in a good many years and there was now so much lying between them that she just didn't know where to start. But even so, her mood of late puzzled her. Perhaps Miss Somerled might provide a distraction of sorts she thought as she sat down to listen to the poem.

"I'd be glad to share it Ma'am," replied Elfraine. "It's called 'Westron wynde'." She opened the book, found the poem she'd been reading and recited it for Nuala, giving proper voice to the medieval English.

_Westron wynde when wyll thow blow,_

_The smalle rayne downe can rayne –_

_Cryst, yf my love wer in my armys_

_And I yn my bed agayne!"_

Miss Somerled was right, thought Nuala as Elfraine finished. The simple words of the short poem were absolutely fitting for the day. They also echoed her own feelings as she thought about how she missed Abraham and worried for him out there facing unknown dangers. She certainly wished he was back with her now. "I like that poem," she informed Elfraine wistfully. "It says so much with so little."

"Yes, it does," agreed Elfraine. "Strange, isn't it, to think those long-dead voices can still talk to us after all this time. And their meaning is as clear today as it was five hundred years ago." She sounded somewhat wistful herself.

Nuala laughed gently at that. "True, Miss Somerled. But five hundred years is not so very long to an elf."

"Yes. I've read that elves have a very long lifespan Your Highness," replied Elfraine with interest. "How do you bear the weight of the centuries?" she asked with what she hoped was a neutral tone.

Nuala gave her a strange look at the question, which she considered for a moment before answering. "The years themselves don't feel overly heavy Miss Somerled. They're only natural for my kind after all. I think what adds weight is what happens during them and that can be the case as easily for five years as for five thousand."

"That's true enough," agreed Elfraine. "But don't you find they get... I don't know... lonely?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wished them unsaid. That strange oppressive mood had crept back up on her and she'd spoken unguardedly.

Nuala once more thought on the question for a moment or two before replying. "Yes, but again loneliness happens from time to time regardless of lifespan." She was a bit surprised by the question and couldn't see the purpose behind it. "I think if you have good friends and... family... it can help alleviate any loneliness." She hesitated at the word "family" and thought sadly of how she'd once counted her brother amongst such people in her life. She keenly felt the loss of both him and her father.

Elfraine sighed and observed quietly, coming back to her starting point, "Yes, and if you outlive everyone you love and everything you know then the years must surely weigh heavily."

Nuala gave Elfraine an inquiring look. She got the distinct impression the human woman had a very personal interest in the topic, though for the life of her she couldn't think what that would be. Miss Somerled was, after all, still quite young.

Elfraine could see the princess's puzzlement at the direction the conversation was taking and made yet another effort to throw off her introspective mood. Heaven only knew what maggot had gotten into her brain today! "Forgive me Ma'am," she said with forced lightness. "I think the greyness of the day is having a lowering effect on my disposition."

Nuala gave a polite smile and started to make a noncommittal reply when she was interrupted by the sound of the library door opening. Both Elfraine and Nuala looked around to see two agents in the white shirts and black suits of the BPRD enter the room and close the door firmly behind them.

**... ... ...**

**Station Nord, Greenland**

Nuada looked out over the crisp white snow, which covered everything in sight. It was eerily lit by the greenish glow from the _aurora _and only the wind moved in the dark, empty landscape. They'd been at Station Nord for just over 24 hours now and with the thermometer sticking stubbornly to around -30degC he'd never encountered such cold conditions before.

The sun remained hidden below the horizon and when they'd arrived around noon the previous day, their heavy, grey transport plane had needed the runway lights to make its approach and touch down safely in this stark, frigid land of darkness and ice. They were lucky they'd been able to land at all. Of the five military and ten scientific staff originally stationed at the base, only four were still alive and of them, only two were in any state to operate the machinery needed to keep the runway clear. To make matters worse, an Arctic storm had blown in as they landed and the snow had only just let up about an hour ago. It was piled high around the buildings and they were now digging their way out so they could leave here.

As soon as they'd arrived, Manning set about questioning the four survivors while the rest of them checked the buildings. They'd found the mangled remains of what looked to be around six humans scattered throughout the base, which meant that five or so had completely vanished off the face of the earth - there was no other way out of this place. Manning had only been able to get incoherent accounts out of the remaining men and all told it had been a complete waste of time coming here, notwithstanding what Liz Sherman said about it being a good thing from the survivors' point of view.

Nuada looked over at the others and noted that the cold was having a dampening effect on all of them. Even the red demon was quieter than usual, much to the elf's satisfaction. They'd finished digging out the building and had almost completed the path to the air strip. The next task would be clearing the runway itself and they'd need those infernal dirty, noisy snow ploughs for that.

Nuada was about to return to his work when he caught what he thought was a glimpse of something moving rapidly in the far distance. He stopped and scanned the horizon but his sharp eyes couldn't see anything untoward in the darkened landscape and he put it down to a trick of the eerie Northern Lights. However as he turned back to his digging he heard a faint howling that seemed quite distinct from the fierce Arctic winds that shrieked about them and he looked up once more. This time he could definitely see something in the distance – a speeding mass of black that stood out clearly even against the darkness of the sunless day. None of the others had noticed anything but then they didn't have his sharp senses. There was definitely something out there and it was coming straight for them.

He threw down his shovel and took up his sword, which along with his spear was, as always, close at hand. The others stopped at that and gave him a questioning look. "We're about to get company," he told them, his eyes fixed firmly on the horizon.

The human agents working with them scanned the distant landscape and, seeing nothing in the dark gloom, looked at Nuada in disbelief. But Hellboy and Abe knew better than to doubt the elf. His keen senses had given them some handy warnings on other missions and they too threw down their shovels and drew their weapons. The other agents hesitantly decided it was probably a good move and finally drew their guns as well.

They didn't have to wait long. A minute later they could all see the approaching black cloud and hear the faint howling that accompanied it. And a minute after that they could all clearly see the monstrous, slavering, black hounds that were racing across the snow towards their position. The bone-chilling howls of the great beasts rose above the screaming winds which swept in off the Arctic Sea and tore through the empty, white landscape.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

'Westron wynde' – an early 16th century song (circa 1530). Some believe the lyrics are a few hundred years older ('Middle English') and the words are a fragment of medieval poetry.

.

_Chapter posted 8th April 2012  
><em>


	7. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 6**

"Good afternoon gentlemen," Elfraine started to say to the agents as they reached her and Nuala. She was silenced by an uppercut to the chin, which sent her crashing back into the bookshelves. One of the men grabbed Nuala and pulled her head back sharply, ignoring her cry of pain, while the one who'd hit Elfraine swiftly drew a long, evil-looking knife and went for the princess's neck.

He was stopped in his tracks by a heavy chair to the back of his head and he collapsed to his knees. Elfraine swung the chair back and brought it down on his head again, knocking him into unconsciousness this time. She threw the chair aside and drew a sharp, gleaming dagger from a concealed pocket on the inside of her jacket before closing in on the princess and the man who held her.

His grip on the princess had loosened a bit as he looked at his prostrate companion in annoyance and Elfraine saw her chance. "Duck Ma'am!" she yelled as her dagger flashed in a wide sweeping arc.

Nuala ducked with only a second to spare. Any later and the knife would have sliced through her neck rather than the agent's. The sweep of the dagger was only stopped by his cervical vertebraeand Elfraine had to put some effort into yanking the blade back out. Blood spurted from his severed carotid artery and jugular as the knife came free. It sprayed over both her and Nuala as the man fell dead to the ground.

Nuala immediately ran to the wall and hit an alarm switch. The ear-splitting sound of emergency sirens filled the room and both women put their hands over their ears and headed for the door. As they reached it John Myers came running in with his gun drawn. He quickly checked the room and then crossed to the alarm switch and flicked it off. The silence came as a relief to all of them.

Myers looked down at the bodies on the floor. He recognised the men and turned to Nuala and Elfraine with a suspicious look on his face, his gun still raised and pointed at them. "What on earth happened here?" he asked.

Elfraine walked up to him, wiping her dagger clean on her jacket sleeve, and grabbed his arm. She lowered it so the gun was no longer pointing at her and Nuala and answered him in a hard voice. "They tried to kill the princess. It appears you have traitors in the BPRD Agent Myers!" She indicated to the unconscious agent on the floor and said, "We'd better get him secured because he won't be out for too much longer. Do you have anywhere we can lock him up? He'll have some explaining to do later!"

John looked over at Nuala and she gave a jerky nod of affirmation. He turned back to Elfraine and said, "Uh, yeah. There are some cells in the basement." He was surprised - the two agents had been with the BPRD for about a year or so and he wouldn't have imagined them doing anything even remotely like this. Everyone was thoroughly vetted before they got a job here and this sort of thing just didn't happen! He shook his head and pulled out his mobile to ring through to Security to get some help with the unconscious agent and arrange for the other man's body to be taken away. Once he'd done that he looked at Elfraine and Nuala and said, "If you'd like to get cleaned up and wait for me in the Director's office, I'll be there shortly."

Nuala turned to Elfraine and said, "Miss Somerled, you can use my quarters to clean up. It's the least I can do in return for you saving my life. Please, follow me."

Elfraine went with Nuala while John waited for Security to arrive.

**... ...**

Nuala quickly washed up and changed her own clothes then went back out into the small sitting room and got Elfraine a towel and a clean top. She stood outside the bathroom door as Elfraine took her turn to wash up. "I owe you a great debt Miss Somerled," the princess called through the door.

"Not at all Your Highness," replied Elfraine. "I'm only happy I was able to be of service." She finished drying her hands as she thought to herself that it cost _her_ nothing to save the princess's life and it might in fact be a debt she could call in at some later stage.

"Nevertheless, I won't forget what you did for me. It's just as well you had a knife on you. I wouldn't have guessed you would carry one," remarked Nuala with a slight frown on her face. There was far more to Miss Somerled than met the eye.

"Well, up until a few nights ago it was a habit I'd dispensed with. Today's events only confirm the wisdom of always being armed," explained Elfraine. As she came out of the bathroom she was tucking her dagger into the waistband of her pants. She then rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and said, with a rueful look on her face, "I'm far too short for this lovely top. I don't think it looks half as well on me as it must on you but thank you for the loan of it Ma'am."

Nuala suppressed a smile. The white blouse was far too big for Miss Somerled, who was a good head shorter than the elf. However she said kindly, "It doesn't look too bad and besides, I'm glad I could be of assistance to _you _in some small way."

With that, the two women headed off to wait for Agent Myers in the Director's office.

**... ...**

John gave the library one final check after Security had left and then headed for Manning's office. Elfraine and Nuala were already there when he arrived and he asked them for a full account of what had happened. They didn't have too much more to add to what Elfraine had told him earlier and he was at a loss as to what to do. He supposed he should contact Manning to let him know about the attempt on the princess's life and he picked up his mobile to make the call. "That's strange," he said to Elfraine and Nuala after looking at his phone.

"What's the matter John?" asked Elfraine.

"There's no signal. I guess I'll have to make radio contact," he replied.

Elfraine was sitting by the window and as John spoke she thought she caught a glimpse of something in the grounds below out of the corner of her eye. She turned to look outside and gave a start at what she saw.

"I think we've got more immediate problems right now," she said without moving her eyes from the scene below.

John and Nuala walked over to the window and looked out past Elfraine. Horror filled them as they saw what she was talking about. Below, ranging back and forth across the expanse of ground around the building was a pack of at least twenty large, monstrous hounds. Each animal was about half the size of a horse and had long, shaggy black fur and huge white fangs which protruded from their frothing jaws. A single large, glowing red eye sat in the middle of each beast's squat forehead and every single one of those eyes was fixed unblinkingly on the windows above. The hounds' pacing increased as they saw the figures in the window staring out at them, and they started to growl in low, chilling anticipation.

Several feet away were a couple of pulpy reddish piles of... something! John could just make out the insignia of the BPRD on a shredded piece of material in one of the piles and he realised he was looking at the remains of the security guards who'd been on the front doors. Good God! They hadn't even had time to get off a round or make any other sort of noise.

Suddenly the hounds fell silent and turned, almost as one, to stare at something in the trees. Nuala gasped and pointed at what she saw. Elfraine and John followed her direction. There lurking amongst the trees was five or six dark, shadow-like forms, half-man and half-beast, and the hounds seemed to be looking to them for guidance.

One of the forms lifted an arm and gestured towards the building and suddenly the hounds were let loose. They turned and rushed the sturdy front doors, baying loudly as they flew over the damp ground. When they reached the threshold, they battered the doors with such ceaseless ferocity that the building seemed to shake. The pounding continued for several minutes and then suddenly stopped.

Elfraine looked at John and asked with concern, "Will those doors hold up against that?"

"I honestly don't know," he replied, looking worried.

"Then I think we'd better take a closer look and see if we need to barricade ourselves in," she suggested.

"Good idea!" John turned to Nuala. "Your Highness, I think you should come with us. We'll be safer if we all stick together."

Nuala readily agreed to John's suggestion and they all left Manning's office.

As John headed towards the lifts, Elfraine stopped him. "We should take the stairs. At least if we meet anything we'll have somewhere to go. If we're cornered in one of those metal coffins we'll be sitting ducks! Which reminds me, do you have any more firearms John? I think the princess and I will find they come in handy before the day is over!"

"Certainly," he answered. "I'll take you to the armoury and get something for each of you after we've checked the doors."

They set off down the stairs and quickly reached the landing at the top of the first floor without incident. From there they could see the front door and it looked to be holding up to the battering reasonably well. "I don't think we need to go any further," said John, and Elfraine and Nuala quickly agreed with him.

"We need to find somewhere safe to dig in just in case those doors eventually go," said Elfraine. "How's your armoury set up John? Would that be a good place to base ourselves until help arrives?"

"Yes, it would! It's steel-reinforced and there's only one way in," he replied.

"And of course we'll have all the weapons we need!" murmured Elfraine. "We should head up there now and gather as many people as we can on the way," she suggested. "And then we can work out what else we need in case we're in for an extended stay there."

They'd just turned to make their way up to the armoury when they heard the ominous click of a door latch. All three quickly spun back round to see one of the younger scientists about to head out for a run. He'd been working in the lab in the basement and was oblivious to the danger that lurked beyond the door. They yelled out for him to stop but his iPod was blasting some catchy beats into his head, and the frantic cries coming from the top of the stairs were drowned out. Elfraine, John and Nuala could only watch in horror as the doors swung open and the young man looked up into the waiting jaws of death on the other side.

Two monstrous hounds leapt through the opening, ripping the doors off their hinges, and grabbed a piece each of the terrified scientist. It took only seconds of their time to rend him into a sloppy, gelatinous, crunchy pile of blood, flesh and bone, and then the beasts turned their great, red eyes on the three figures at the head of the stairs.

"Run!" yelled John as he drew his Glock and emptied the magazine into the hounds. But the bullets had no effect on them and he turned to follow Nuala and Elfraine as the first hound leapt over the foyer in one bound and landed at the foot of the stairs.

"How far up is the armoury?" Elfraine called out as they neared the top of the second flight of stairs.

"Another three flights!" John yelled back.

"Damn!" muttered Elfraine. "Those bloody creatures will have us well before then!" Her dagger would be about as much use against them as a plastic knife! She looked ahead up the third flight of stairs and saw a pair of battle axes mounted on the wall at the top of the landing. The princess was nearly at them and Elfraine called out, "Nuala! Get those axes down for me! Then get to the armoury as fast as you can and get the door open!" She hoped what she'd read about elves' speed and magical ability to open any lock was right!

Nuala paused to grab the weapons and flung them to the floor before flying up the next flight of stairs.

Elfraine bent down and snatched up an axe in each hand as she reached the landing then swerved sharply to the side to let John pass. Thank God the weapons only had short hafts – she'd be able to use them both at the same time and she knew she'd need every advantage possible to give John and Nuala time to get to the safety of the armoury. The only worry now was whether or not the blades had been blunted for display. She'd have Manning's head if the edges were off them!

John slowed down as he went past Elfraine and started to turn to help her. She gave him a hard push with the blunt end of one axe as she told him, "I can take care of them! Get up to the armoury and help Nuala with the door!" He still hesitated and Elfraine gave him a harder shove as she snarled, "Don't get in my way Myers! Move! _Now_!"

John saw the frothing muzzle of the lead hound appear over the top of the third flight of stairs as he turned and started for the next flight, and he raced up towards the armoury with a sinking feeling.

**... ... ...**

**Station Nord, Greenland**

The hounds' bodies were piling up in the snow around Nuada and Hellboy. Abe and the human agents had been forced to fall back when they discovered that bullets didn't work against the beasts, and it was left to the other two to do the heavy lifting. One of the agents hadn't been quick enough though and what was left of him stained the place where he'd been taken down, making it look like the remains of a ghastly, giant reddish-brown snow cone under the green glow of the aurora.

Nuada had sliced a fair number of the monstrous creatures to pieces with his sword while keeping skilfully out of the way of their deadly teeth and claws, and Hellboy had ripped apart just as many with his bare hands. But the baying hounds still kept coming, their giant red eyes shining eerily in the gloomy light, and the elf and demon were tiring. It was the hardest battle either of them had fought in a long while and it would only be a matter of time before some of the hellish beasts got lucky.

Liz and Kraus had stepped outside by now to keep an eye on things and were standing next to Abe and the other agents. Liz would have helped out but Hellboy and Nuada were trapped in the thick of it and although it wouldn't have harmed Hellboy, she wasn't sure about Nuada. If it turned out he was susceptible to her flames she didn't think Nuala would be too happy with her for incinerating her brother along with the hounds. Nor, for that matter, would Manning she thought as she looked at him watching on from inside the building. And too, there was the risk she'd inadvertently harm Abe and the others.

Just as Liz was thinking she'd have to at least try _something_, the hounds suddenly ceased their howling attack and fell back. They turned and stared into in the darkened landscape, and then seemingly from out of nowhere and moving at great speed came a shadowy creature, half-man half-beast. It headed straight for Abe's group. There was no time to get out of the way and the only thing they could do was draw their guns and take aim. Liz fired up as well, just in case she got a clear line on it, but it was moving too quickly and she couldn't get a fix on it.

The shadow beast was almost upon them when they realised it had already picked out a target. It was making for an agent who was standing on the edge of the group a short distance apart from the others. The man emptied the magazine of his Glock into the dark form as it bore down on him but the bullets were merely absorbed by the beast and neither stopped it nor slowed it down one bit. He started in horror as it reached him and tore through his body without pause, glittering darkly as it ripped apart every atom it found. There wasn't even time to scream. The particles that had once made up his body were flung outwards with great violence and then sucked back in towards the centre of the dark shadow. Everything concentrated into a dense black point which imploded, leaving no trace whatsoever of either man or shadow, and the gloomy light around where he'd last stood seemed somehow stretched a little thinner.

Liz turned to speak to Hellboy and gasped in horror. Another shadow beast was nearly on _him_ and there was no time to do anything. It seized hold of him and Liz felt her heart stop but the shadow was having trouble with the demon and though it shook him about fiercely, it couldn't annihilate him. Finally letting go of him, it headed towards Abe's group now. However the encounter with Hellboy seemed to have slowed it down and Liz was ready this time – she blasted it with fire before it reached them. The flames consumed the shadow and it appeared to struggle violently for several moments before collapsing in on itself and vanishing into thin air with a hellish shriek.

The hounds started forward again, growling threateningly and with their hackles up. Nuada and Hellboy turned back to them and prepared for another round but the beasts suddenly stopped and whirled about to race off in the direction from which they'd originally come.

No one said a word as they looked at the carnage around them. They'd only lost two men and knew they'd gotten off lightly but it didn't feel like it.

Manning broke the silence as he yelled from the doorway, "Right! Everyone inside for a debrief!"

The Arctic winds continued to shriek around them as they realised with a sinking feeling that snow had started to fall in whirling flurries once more. When would they ever get out of this dark, frigid, lifeless place!

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_Chapter posted 14th April 2012  
><em>


	8. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 7**

Elfraine spun back round to face the hounds as John ran up the fourth flight of stairs. She turned side on so she made less of a target and swung the axe in her right hand at the first animal as it leapt off the steps at her. The hound's momentum worked in her favour; the axe plunged into its chest and broke through its rib cage as she pulled her arm down hard. As it went down, the beast slashed at her with its sharp claws and found its mark on her left arm before landing on top of her. The arm was now only attached to her shoulder by a few tendons and thin shreds of muscle while her shoulder joint had been ripped out of its socket, and she could no longer hold the axe in her hand.

Elfraine concentrated. She imagined pulling the all pain together and crumpling it up like a ball of paper, then locking it away somewhere deep inside. It was done in an instant and she pushed through the blackness of death as it consumed her, working with the dragon magic rather than against it as she'd done in the early days. The air around her seemed to shimmer for a second and when it stopped she was whole again and totally unmarked. She rolled out from under the fallen beast and, ignoring the snapping jaws right beside her head, reached into the open wound and ripped out its heart with both hands. Picking up the axes again, she leapt over the dead hound's back to meet the second creature.

She was grateful the hallway was only wide enough to admit one beast at a time. She would still win regardless but it made things a little easier. The second hound turned its head sideways and snapped up Elfraine in its snarling maw. It had her by the waist and as it crunched down on her she threw aside one of the axes and grabbed hold of the other one with both hands, lifting it above her head. Once again, she mastered the pain and pushed through death as she brought down the axe in the centre of the great beast's single red eye, slicing through the socket and into the soft folds of the brain behind. It released her from its jaws as it fell dead to the ground.

Elfraine scrambled away and stood up as she looked at the carcasses of the two hounds. It hadn't taken as long as she thought it would. She didn't usually fare so well in close quarters but owing to the hounds' size, the cramped conditions suited the fight perfectly on this occasion – for her.

She looked down to where her wounds had been and saw they were completely healed, as usual. She was exactly as she had been before the fight. Indeed, she was exactly as she had been on that day almost four hundred years ago when she'd had the audacity to beard a dragon in its den, and the stupidity to try and bend it to her will.

Elfraine shook off those unhelpful thoughts then turned and ran up the stairs. It only took a minute to climb the last two flights and she was soon pounding on the door of the armoury and calling for John and Nuala to open up. They pulled back the heavy steel portal once they'd unlocked it, and she slipped in through the gap before the door was quickly shut once more.

"So... ah, everything went, um, ok then?" asked John hesitantly as he turned back to face her. He'd privately thought he would never see Elfraine Somerled alive again.

"Yes, it all went extremely well thank you John," replied Elfraine, as though she was discussing something of no more importance than a pleasant day out or a trip to the theatre. "The worst damage was done to my blouse... or rather your blouse, Your Highness," she added as she looked down at the torn garment. "I'm sorry but I don't think you'll ever wear it again. I'm sure Director Manning will stand the cost when he returns though. I'd say it would count as a business expense, wouldn't you?"

"Err, yes," replied Nuala in confusion. Like John, she'd never thought to see Miss Somerled alive again either.

Elfraine's sense of humour got the better of her as she took in their muted surprise. She could guess what they'd been thinking and was well aware of what she must look like, and she said, with laughing eyes and an amused smile, "Don't worry. None of the blood's mine." She didn't enlighten them as to how she'd so miraculously survived though.

The three of them quickly turned their minds to the situation they found themselves in.

"How many people do you think are in the building John?" asked Elfraine.

"Not as many as usual, thank goodness," he replied. "About twenty or so I guess."

"Damn!" she swore. "It's most annoying those front doors were damaged! This place is wide open to those bloody hounds now. I don't know how many of your people will still be alive!"

At her words Nuala let out an anguished moan and exclaimed, "Oh no!"

Elfraine and John gave her a questioning look. Elfraine wouldn't have thought the elven woman could turn any whiter but she had.

Nuala looked at them and said in a voice thick with worry, "Aithne and Daman!"

John suddenly went fairly white himself and exclaimed, "How could we forget about them? We have to do something!"

"Would one of you care to explain?" asked Elfraine.

"Aithne and Daman! They're Liz and Hellboy's twins. They're only three years old. Oh, I hope they're all right!" exclaimed Nuala, with a sick look on her face.

Elfraine was horrified. "You mean there are children somewhere in this building?"

"Yes," whispered Nuala.

"Whereabouts will they be?" Elfraine asked.

"They should be in their living quarters. They usually have an afternoon nap," replied Nuala. "Their nanny should be with them."

"Right!" Elfraine shook her head. She'd have to go out again a bit sooner than she'd planned to. "Where are their rooms?" she asked.

"They're three doors down from mine, on the second floor," replied Nuala.

"I'll go and get them, but I'll need a weapon," said Elfraine. "John, did you manage to get any bullets into those creatures before?" she asked.

He gave her an offended look as he told her, "Of course! Every single one hit its mark! They just didn't seem to have any effect on them!"

"Calm down sir," Elfraine said in a tone of mild amusement. "I only wanted to confirm what I thought to be the case. If a firearm's not going to be any good, I'll need something else."

She looked around at what was available and made a sound of approval as she saw a display case full of swords. The battle axes had done the job earlier but a good sword was her preferred weapon of choice - they were lighter and easier to use. Her eyes widened as she noticed a Varangian sword mounted in the case and she shot a quick, considering look at Nuala. The sword was no good in her own hands, except as an ordinary weapon of course, but the princess might be able to put it to its full and proper use. However that would have to wait until later. There were more pressing matters to be dealt with at the moment.

Elfraine turned to the other weapons on display and quickly spied a short side-sword that looked as if it would be a good length for her. She reached up, took it down and pulled it from its scabbard then swung it about to get a feel for it. The balance was good and the blade was sharp; it would do perfectly. She sheathed the sword and strapped the belt around her hips. "Listen out for me at the door and be ready to get it open quickly when I return," she commanded John and Nuala. She nodded towards the door and once they had it open, she ran out into the hallway again.

Elfraine quickly made her way back down to the second floor then set off along the hallway to the wing on the other side of the building where Nuala's rooms were situated. She made it there without seeing anyone or anything, and was at the start of the passageway leading to Nuala's quarters when she spied a dark form by one of the doors. "Damn!" she swore softly. It was one of the shadow beasts, and there was no way she was going to be able to avoid it now. She drew her sword.

The shadow turned its head in her direction at the hiss of steel. It paused for a split second, and then tore down the passageway straight for her. She swung her sword at it but the weapon just went straight through the shadowy creature. Then suddenly the shadow beast was entangled with her and trying to rip apart every particle of her being. For only the second time in almost four hundred years Elfraine knew the fear that this might be her moment of death. It was unlike anything she'd ever encountered before and she had the very real feeling the end was only moments away. She concentrated hard, working with the dragon magic, and everything held together. The agony was excruciating but years of practise at dealing with pain stood her in good stead now, and though the shadow tore at her and tossed her about, it couldn't atomise her.

There was a moment of the most intense pain she'd ever felt, and the feeling of being caught in a crushing blackness, then suddenly everything stopped. The shadow had disappeared and Elfraine found herself still among the living. She looked down at her hands and was disturbed to see that for once, something more permanent appeared to have happened to her. The skin on her hands and forearms had a silvery-white, almost scaly, look to it and it seemed to be shimmering and changing. It was as if there was something snaking around underneath it. But to her relief, the strange effect suddenly vanished and her skin took on its usual appearance once more. She made a mental note to avoid the shadow beasts where ever possible in future, and quickly headed for the twins' quarters.

Elfraine's stomach dropped to her feet when she reached the rooms; the doors had been ripped off their hinges. Lying in the middle of the anteroom were the remains of something that had once been human... possibly; it was hard to tell. A low snarling from one of the rooms off the entrance drew her attention and she ran over to a set of adjoining doors which had also been ripped from their hinges.

One of the monstrous hounds had something cornered under the bed and it turned to snarl threateningly at Elfraine. Deciding she was easier prey, it leapt at her but she rolled to the side and swung her sword in a back slash that caught the underside of the beast as it flew past her. It skidded to a halt and as it turned round to attack once more, Elfraine jumped on its back and wrapped her left arm around its muzzle, holding the jaws shut. She then reached round with her other arm and hacked into its throat with her sword as it thrashed about, trying to fling her off. The hound collapsed dead in a heap on the floor and she rolled away from the carcass. She felt quite pleased with herself; the creature hadn't managed to get in a single blow.

It was then that Elfraine heard loud, terrified, childlike sobs coming from under the bed and her heart nearly broke. She called out gently to let the frightened children know help had arrived. "Hello? Aithne, Daman? Where are you my poppets? Your mummy and daddy have sent me to bring you to Princess Nuala and Agent Myers. They'll look after you until mummy and daddy get back home."

At the sound of a human voice and the mention of their mommy and daddy, the children's sobs stopped for a second but then started up again, though with less force this time.

"My name's Elfraine," she continued on softly, "but you can call me Elf. Would you like to come out now so we can go and find Princess Nuala and Agent Myers?"

"But, but..." sobbed one of the children, "skeerwy doggie!"

"It's all taken care of now pet. It was just a mean old puppy and I told it off. It's promised to behave and it won't bother us anymore," she reassured the children, keeping her fingers firmly crossed.

Luckily they were more than ready to be reassured and one of them called out between snuffles, "We unda da bed."

"Oh, I'd never have guessed!" replied Elfraine. "What a good hiding place. Now hold still for a moment. I'm going to whip the covers off to make it easier for you to get out." She quickly sheathed her sword and grabbed hold of the bed quilt. Tearing it off the bed in a sweeping motion, she flicked it up and then guided it down over the body of the hound. Now all she had to do was distract the children and get them out of the room quickly so they would never know it was there.

Two little faces framed by bouncing black curls peeked out from under the bed and two sets of big, round orange-red eyes stared up at her. Each child had a set of tiny demon's horns on their forehead and Elfraine's heart melted at the sight of them; they were adorable. But she didn't have time to admire them – they needed to get back to the armoury. She reached down and, taking a hand each, helped them out from under the bed then hustled them past the hound, past the remains of what she guessed was once their nurse, and out into the hallway, asking as she went, "Now, who's Aithne and who's Daman?"

"_I_ Aifne. _He _Dame," replied the little girl as Daman nodded his head in vigorous agreement.

"Well, as I said before, I'm Elf and I'm very pleased to meet you both. Now let's go and find Princess Nuala and Agent Myers," said Elfraine, hoping they could get back to the armoury without running into anything else.

Luck was with them. They made it back to the armoury without incident though there was a nasty moment when Elfraine remembered the bodies of the two hounds she'd slain earlier on the third floor landing. She picked up a child in each arm, told them to close their eyes, and played a guessing game with them as she got them past the landing and up the fourth flight of stairs. She was relieved they were such cooperative wee things and kept their eyes firmly shut the whole way.

Nuala and John were overjoyed to see them all return safely. Neither of them could have borne it if anything had happened to the two little children.

Elfraine handed the twins over to Nuala. It was now late afternoon, and she imagined everyone was getting hungry. She could do with something to eat herself though that was not absolutely necessary; she was not likely to starve to death. "I'll go out again and get some food," she announced.

The children brightened up at that and started to put in their orders. Elfraine hid a smile and assured them she'd do her best. She looked over to John and asked, "Where are the kitchens?"

"They're on the ground floor at the back of the building," he told her. "I'll come and give you a hand."

"No... thank you John," she said quickly. "You should stay here with Nuala and the children. They may well need your protection. Besides, I work best alone." And with that, she was off.

She was back in about half an hour with a pack full of food, and everyone sat down to eat. After dinner Elfraine made several more excursions out into the building to get further supplies for their stay in the armoury and to try and find more survivors, but each time, while she was successful with the supplies, she could only bring back the grim news that there didn't appear to be anyone else left alive in the BPRD.

On one of the trips she brought back some bedding and Nuala set up makeshift beds for the twins. The adults were all extremely glad there was a small washroom off the armoury; that would certainly make the living conditions more amenable, especially as it was beginning to look like they might be in for a longer stay than they'd like.

The building was still surrounded by the prowling hounds and there was no way of contacting anyone on the outside. John had been trying every half hour or so to get a signal on his cell phone but he was having no luck, and Elfraine had discovered on one of her trips that the landline was down and the radiophones in the Stores department had all been smashed to pieces. She wondered at that; it seemed a strange thing for either the shadow beasts or the hounds to target, and John and Nuala were in agreement with her.

They were in for an uncomfortable night, and things were not made any easier by the sporadic howling of the monstrous hounds lurking out in the trees. Even more disturbing though, was the growling and scratching that could be heard every now and then from the other side of the armoury door all throughout the long night.

**... ... ...**

**Station Nord, Greenland**

The rest of the team had joined Manning in the control room for the debriefing but just as the Director started to talk, the power went out.

"Aw crap!" exclaimed Hellboy. "What next?"

"Everyone keep calm," said Manning as he searched clumsily for a flashlight in the bag of gear on the table next to him. He knew there was one in there somewhere, and he found it after fumbling around for a moment or two. When he turned it on, he got a nasty fright; Nuada was standing at his shoulder and staring at him, with a feral look in his eyes.

The Director took two quick steps back and tugged at his tie. He cleared his throat nervously and said, "We'll get the technicians to check the generators. Hellboy, you and the prince here go with them to keep watch. Everyone else, make yourselves as comfortable as you can. It might be a long night."

While everyone else settled in as best they could, Hellboy and Nuada accompanied the two technicians over to the generator room. After checking out the building, they took up guard by the door; it was the only way in and would be fairly easy to defend if necessary.

Hellboy looked over at Nuada; the prince wasn't saying much, as usual. He enjoyed baiting the elf but those opportunities were few and far between; it was a bit hard to have any fun when Nuada didn't say anything.

Hellboy turned his attention to the technicians. They obviously weren't going to be much company either; they were too busy with the generators. He watched the glow from their headlamps as they worked but eventually got bored with that. It had grown very cold in the unheated room and he hoped it wouldn't take too long to get the power back on. He could do with Liz right about now, he thought with a grin. Still, at least the kids were safe and warm back at the BPRD. He couldn't wait to see them again. He and Liz had better get out of this icebox tomorrow!

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_Chapter posted 21st April 2012_


	9. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 8**

Elfraine glanced at her watch. It was almost one o'clock in the morning, and the hounds had been silent for the last fifteen minutes or so. She looked over at the sleeping children and thanked her lucky stars they were such good sleepers. Agent Myers didn't seem to be having too much trouble sleeping either, she thought as she glanced enviously in his direction. It was only herself and the elven princess who were finding slumber elusive.

She looked over at the princess to find Nuala staring at her with a slight frown on her face. The elf looked as if she had something to say so Elfraine got up and went and sat beside her. "Do you have a question, Your Highness?" she asked politely.

"Yes, Miss Somerled, I do. How is it you haven't been killed yet?" said Nuala bluntly. She softened her next words at Elfraine's startled look. "I mean, if it weren't for you, we'd be dead now and it perplexes me that you've managed to keep both yourself and us alive so far," said Nuala.

"Oh... well, I've travelled all around this world... several times over I suppose, and I've learnt a trick or two along the way," replied Elfraine. "I must say, in all my travels I've never met an elf though. I've heard of your kind in songs and stories of course, but never actually met any of you," she remarked casually, as she turned the conversation around to Nuala. It would save her having to deflect questions about herself that she didn't particularly want to answer.

Nuala recognised the trick and gave Elfraine a narrow look but let her get away with it. "My people are not as visible in this world as we once were," said the princess, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Why is that, Ma'am?" asked Elfraine.

"You have to know something of the ancient history your people and mine share to know that," replied the princess.

"Please, do go on Your Highness," Elfraine requested, thinking it was as good a way as any to while away some hours until morning. She didn't think she was going to get any sleep this night anyway.

"Once, eons ago, your kind and mine lived together in peace. But humans have a fatal flaw; you have a hole in your hearts that nothing can ever fill and you grasp at all you see in the vain attempt to fill that hole," Nuala explained. She paused and looked at Elfraine as if expecting some disagreement.

However the elf's words made Elfraine think of the need she'd been trying to fill in her own heart some four hundred years ago, and she found she couldn't take exception to what Nuala said. If she hadn't been so caught up in her own selfish concerns and then been so wilfully blind, none of what followed would have ever come to pass. She simply nodded now in acknowledgement of what the princess had said.

Nuala continued her account. "We shared this earth once and all creatures – man, beast and all magical beings – lived together under Aeglin, the father tree, but your people soon wished to have everything for themselves. Eventually your kind waged war against the magical races as you tried to seize more and more of the world to hold for yourselves alone, and much blood was spilled on both sides. But your people were insatiable and would not stop in your efforts. My father, King Balor of Bethmoora, despaired of the wars ever ending and dreaded the consequences for our people.

When the Master of the Goblin Blacksmiths offered one day to build a golden mechanical armyfor the king, my brother urged our father to agree. So my father built an unstoppable army to finally put an end to the wars. But the destruction the Golden Army wrought was so indiscriminate and so terrible that my father refused to continue using it. Instead he made a truce with your kind; it was agreed the humans would take the cities and the magical races would take the forests, and there would be no more war between , your people may not have waged war on mine since then but there is no doubt you have not honoured the _spirit_ of the truce. Every year your kind encroaches further and further on our lands. You do nothing to control your ever-growing towns and cities; they swallow up our forests and lands, and you leave us to make do with less and less."

Elfraine inclined her head in acknowledgment of the princess's point as she said dispassionately, "I can well imagine we leave very little of anything for anyone else. We number in the billions, and the world must be fair groaning under the weight of us."

"Yes, Miss Somerled," said Nuala. "That's why my people aren't as visible as we once were, and why you might now live your whole life and never see one of my kind; you are pushing us further and further out of sight, and our very existence is under threat from your ever-growing numbers and your insatiable greed."

Elfraine was much struck by what the princess said; she thought back to the decades which circumscribed what should have been her own natural allotment of years. Then, the belief in magic was as much a part of life as breathing, and fantastic magical creatures might be encountered anywhere, as she well knew to her cost. But things were indeed very different these days, as the princess so rightly stated.

"I can see why your brother might hold us in such contempt then," said Elfraine. "But _you_ don't seem to regard us in quite the same way. Why is that Your Highness? I must say I find it surprising you don't."

"I know the truth of your people's nature and cannot hate you for it, though I might not like it. You are as you were made. My brother, however, is less accepting and absolutely loathes your kind for what you are," replied Nuala.

"You take a very charitable view of things, Ma'am," murmured Elfraine. "What do your people intend to do about the loss of your lands?" she asked.

"There's nothing we can do, Miss Somerled," replied Nuala, "at least not without going against our nature. Honour is as important to my kind as breath and it's in our nature to honour the truce, both in letter and in spirit." She paused though as she thought of her brother's actions in the auction house four years ago and honesty compelled her to add, "To my father's great shame, Nuada broke the truce with humans and slaughtered some of your kind in an act of open aggression some four years ago. We all paid a heavy price for that. But my brother still favours waging war to reclaim what is rightfully ours and put an end to the threat humans pose to our people. I fear he will not stop in his madness!"

"Forgive me for stating the obvious Your Highness, but the Elven Army is hardly knocking on the gates of the castle, as it were," remarked Elfraine.

Nuala gave Elfraine a look of consternation at that and said, "A word of advice Miss Somerled. In the unlikely event you ever find yourself discussing the matter within hearing shot of my brother, I wouldn't put it quite like that if I were you."

"Wouldn't you, Ma'am?" asked Elfraine innocently, as she stored away the phrase for later use.

"No, Miss Somerled, I wouldn't," replied the princess. "My father, the king, strongly believed we should fade rather than go against our nature and break the truce with your kind. Although he had his followers, my brother found it difficult to raise the necessary support for his cause, and that's long been a sore point with him. His most fervent hope has always been that our people will one day accept the need to take action against your kind."

Elfraine gave Nuala a puzzled look. "What do you mean by _fade_?" she asked.

"Your kind has already pushed us into the darkest corners of the earth, and one day you'll push us from even those places. Once we have faded from sight, it will not be long before we fade from memory too. And when the stories of us are no longer told, we'll be gone from this world forever," explained Nuala sadly.

"It seems a hard fate for your kind, and yet most of you are willing to accept it," Elfraine observed, though the hint of disbelief in her voice begged the question.

"I would not say we are _willing_ to accept it," replied Nuala. "Rather, it's that we can do nothing _but_ accept it."

"I cannot for the life of me see why you can do _nothing_ but accept it!" Elfraine observed. "Surely you have a choice."

"We do, but we hold to our honour; it is not in our nature to do otherwise," said Nuala.

"And yet it's apparently in your brother's," remarked Elfraine. "He will _not_ suffer the _slings and arrows of outrageous fortune_, but has _taken arms against a sea of troubles_ instead, and _Elven_ _honour_ be damned it seems."

"Not at all, Miss Somerled," said Nuala quickly. "To his mind, _his_ course is the honourable one and those of us who _accept_ our fate are the ones without honour," she explained sadly. As she said the words out loud, Nuala realised she'd never quite considered the matter in that light before. If what she said was true, her actions in the cave in Ireland four years ago would seem like the most terrible betrayal to Nuada rather than a principled stand, and that gave her pause for thought.

"A '_piteous predicament_' indeed!" murmured Elfraine. "But what of the prize should you win the struggle? Does that not inspire you to at least attempt the thing?" she asked, with the disbelief now quite evident in her voice.

"Ultimately, there would be no winners in such a war. We would poison the earth for all time," replied Nuala somewhat shortly. She was starting to take exception to Elfraine's tone.

"And so you will _fade_ and leave the human race in possession of the field which, given our record over the last couple of hundred years or so, will likely see the earth poisoned in any event! Pray tell me Your Highness, are you not the _slightest_ bit inclined to support your brother in his endeavour?" asked Elfraine.

"I supported my _father_ when he lived, and I honour his memory by continuing to support what _he_ believed in... and what _I_ believe in," Nuala added quickly as she anticipated Elfraine's next words.

Elfraine, who had indeed been about to ask the question, shut her mouth and eyed Nuala dubiously. But her disbelief got the better of her and she could no longer hold back her thoughts on all she'd just heard. "Good grief! I _almost_ begin to feel some sympathy for your brother... though I don't expect it will last any longer than the length of time it takes him to open his mouth should we meet again."

Nuala frowned at Elfraine and said somewhat sharply, "Please explain yourself Miss Somerled. I'm not sure what point you're trying to make."

"Only this Ma'am: not only does your brother face the daunting, if not impossible task of dealing with a foe that is some seven billion strong, and growing apace with every minute of every day, it would seem he also has to deal with the insidious apathy of both his family and the larger part of his people towards their own eventual demise. It appears he's a solitary voice for your people and has chosen to walk a lonely path indeed. I must confess I don't know whether your kind's apparent willingness to so helpfully expedite matters by _fading _is one of the saddest things I've ever heard in my life or the biggest pile of nonsense!"

Nuala started forward in fury at those words, and Elfraine thought the elf was going to strike her. It would have probably served her right if the princess did slap her. She was well aware she should have exercised at least a little discretion however the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She was clearly getting careless in her advanced years, and complacent in her immortality; it was not a mistake she would have ever made when she was younger... and mortal. Her Queen would have likely spat at her or thrown a slipper at her head, if not actually _had_ her head, for such a misstep!

Nuala, however, had too much experience to give in to her baser instincts and restrained herself, although with some difficulty. "I would not expect you to understand Miss Somerled," she replied angrily. "In my experience, humans don't easily accommodate points of view other than their own, and _your_ kind has _never_ understood the sense of honour that is at the very base of everything _my_ kind does."

"You're right on one point," Elfraine admitted. "I _don't_ understand you. I don't think I could _ever_ understand anyone who wouldn't _fight_ to the bitter end for themselves and their loved ones, or indeed a leader who wouldn't do the same for his or her own people."

Once again, Elfraine's thoughts flew back to Gloriana; this time, to the day the Queen had reviewed her troops at Tilbury as they made ready to face the Spanish fleet. Elfraine had only been eight years old but she still remembered, even after all these years, sitting on her uncle's shoulders and hearing Elizabeth speak. And she remembered some of Her Majesty's words in particular:

"_I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honour and my blood even, in the dust."_

It had been a stirring moment, and the queen's fighting words had made a great and lasting impression on the little girl. Elfraine looked Nuala in the eye now and remarked, "Forgive me if I offend Your Highness, but you appear to be not so much standing on your principles as _giving up_... not that it's any of my business, of course."

"I would have thought you should be glad my people's sense of honour would spare your kind the senseless slaughter that a war would involve!" exclaimed Nuala, stung by the accusation of _giving up_. Her people had fought for many centuries before it had come to this.

Elfraine was brought up short by the princess's words. She knew only too well that like those she'd once loved, and the one she still _did_ love, she should have died and crumbled to dust centuries ago, and she was painfully aware she now had very little in common with any other person on this earth. She said, with a bitter sadness, "That should be my response, shouldn't it. But I can find no concern in me for the fate of humanity, or indeed for the fate of the world at large. You can blast this earth to perdition, or not; it's all of a one to me. I have my own affairs to settle, and they are _all_ I care about."

"I find that hard to believe, Miss Somerled," said Nuala. She was shocked at the other woman's words and tone, and her anger abated as she recalled just what Elfraine had done for them over the past twelve hours or so. "You've shown great care in helping us to safety and preserving our lives."

Elfraine gave her a hard look. It was clearly time to disabuse the princess of some wrong-headed ideas. "Don't read too much into that, Ma'am. The only reason I'm still here now is because it suits _me_... and because of them," she said with a nod in the sleeping children's direction. "And that reminds me, we should be discussing practical matters now, and not debating existential questions which we are only likely to come to blows over."

Nuala was more than happy to change the subject. She had some thinking to do about her actions four years ago and she no longer wished to discuss her people or her brother until she'd done that and sorted things out in her own mind. "What do you mean?" she asked now.

"We're unable to contact the outside world at the moment, and I suspect we'll have to rescue ourselves. I can chip away at the hounds, and the shadows too if I must, but I think you and Agent Myers need to be ready to mount some sort of defence should anything happen to me." Elfraine was concerned she might not withstand too many more encounters with the shadows but kept that piece of information to herself. If she had to explain her earlier fight with one of the creatures, she would in all likelihood have to reveal her secret and she was reluctant to do that unless she absolutely had to. People always expected an explanation once they found out about her immortality, and that was something she was most definitely _not_ prepared to give.

"What experience do you have with weapons?" she asked the princess.

"I can use a bow and a knife reasonably well," replied Nuala.

"What about a sword?" asked Elfraine as she glanced at the Varangian blade in the display case.

"I know the basics but I'd hardly say I'm skilled at swordplay," answered Nuala. She was somewhat unnerved by the enigmatic smile Elfraine gave her at that.

"Well, we shall just have to practice then, won't we," said Elfraine as she walked over to the display case and took down the Varangian sword. "And I have the very weapon for you, Your Highness!" she exclaimed as she unsheathed it. "In my hands it's merely an ordinary sword, but in yours it should be something quite extraordinary."

Nuala had no idea what Elfraine was talking about. The sword the human woman held was an ornate one, with an intricately crafted pommel and cross-guard, and strange markings along the entire length of its gleaming blade.

Elfraine saw Nuala's puzzled look and explained. "It's one of only a small number of swords that were once used by the Varangian Guard. The Guard was an elite unit tasked with defending the Byzantine Emperor, and beauties such as this were prized by those Guardsmen who could wield them properly. I've only ever seen it done by one, ah, person which was, of course, long after the Guard ceased to exist."

Strictly speaking, that last part was not true, though the princess didn't need to know that. Elfraine _had_ encountered the Varangian Guard but by then its golden days were many centuries behind it, and it had been little more than an ill-disciplined, rag-tag band of murderers and mercenaries hiring themselves out to the highest bidder and hardly deserving of the name of the once-proud Guard. But there'd been one amongst the group who'd been born of magic - a priestess and a warrior - and she'd possessed such a sword. Dihyā al-Kāhinat had been one of the best and dearest friends Elfraine had ever had. The Englishwoman been honoured to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her in the heat and the dust beyond the walls of Constantinople when Dihyā had used the Varangian sword for the last time ever, and it was with a heavy heart that Elfraine had raised a memorial to her friend, and laid to rest her friend's murdered infant son on an outcrop of rocks deep in the countryside.

"Here, give me your hand Ma'am," Elfraine said now as she walked over to Nuala and held out her own.

Nuala hesitantly took Elfraine's hand, and Elfraine gave the princess a sharp look as she warned her, "Now, don't be alarmed Your Highness. As soon as you touch it, the sword should light up." She guided Nuala's hand to the weapon and closed the princess's fingers over the hand grip.

Nuala gasped and started as the sword did indeed light up the second she touched it. "It's amazing!" she whispered in awe as she looked at the golden fire.

"Yes, it is quite impressive, isn't it," agreed Elfraine. She stepped away from Nuala once she was certain the elf had a firm grip on the weapon. "The swords only do that in the hands of those born of magic. Mere humans, such as myself, and those who obtain their magic by other means can't command their special powers."

"How do the swords come to have such powers?" Nuala asked, still staring at the flaming blade in wonder.

"I have no idea Ma'am. I don't even know how they originally came to be made or how old they really are," replied Elfraine. "The swords are supposed to have other powers too, and it apparently takes years to learn how to use them all properly. Otherwise that's as much as I know about them. I'm hoping though it'll prove to be more effective against those shadows and hounds than ordinary weapons have been so far. And now, I think we should start practising with what we _do_ have."

Elfraine took Nuala to a far corner of the armoury and drilled her for the next three hours. At the end of it, she was pleased enough with the progress the princess had made during that time. The elf did indeed know the basics of swordsmanship and she was quick to pick up the more advanced techniques Elfraine showed her. Nuala was as well-prepared as she could be in the time they'd had to practise, although Elfraine was only too well aware that facing an actual enemy was quite a different matter. She hoped the princess had the mettle to rise to the occasion should she be called upon to do so.

**... ...**

It was now almost morning and the others were starting to stir. It didn't take the children long to bounce up and let everyone know they were in imminent danger of starving to death. Nuala laughed and took them over to the food supplies to pick out their breakfast; a little leniency with the rules went a long way in trying circumstances.

Elfraine had something to eat too and then went over to speak with Agent Myers. "Good morning John. I trust you slept well," she remarked as she sat on the floor next to him.

"Uh, yeah. I think I did, thanks. I was hoping this was all a nightmare though," he replied ruefully, as he ran his hand through his hair.

Elfraine gave him a sympathetic look as she replied, "But sadly it's not, is it. And now it seems we're besieged, with no sign of rescue on the horizon."

He looked worried as he agreed with her. "Yes, I know. I still can't get a signal on my mobile and the battery's starting to run flat."

"I'm going to make a few more sorties this morning so I'll keep my eyes open for a charger or another phone. We might as well keep trying. I'll also try to knock off a few more of those blasted _puppies_," said Elfraine as she looked over at the children. "You never know, something new might turn up today!" she added in an attempt to hold out at least some hope to the young man.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" he asked. He was quite prepared to do what he had to but he was relieved when Elfraine declined his offer. The only weapon he could use with any skill was a gun, and as he'd found out yesterday guns were useless against the hounds.

"I think the best thing you can do for the moment is stay here with the princess and the children," Elfraine advised him. "If anything happens to me, you'll be their next line of defence. I'd suggest you search the armoury whilst I'm gone and try to find some weapon which might be more effective than your Glock. Which reminds me, I found a weapon for Her Highness last night and we spent several hours practising with it."

Nuala, hearing their conversation and having set the children up with a picture book after they'd finished eating, came over to show the Varangian sword to John. He was as impressed with it as she was, and they stood together to admire it while Nuala held the brightly flaming blade aloft. Elfraine was rather taken with the sight as well, and also paused to stare at it.

Whilst they were looking at the sword, Nuala's eyes glanced past the blade and fell on a Celtic stone head affixed high on the wall, near the roof of the armoury. She thought it an unusual thing to be in an armoury and was about to look back at the sword when she noticed something odd about the cold, grey, stone eyes. They seemed to be almost moving, with a strange rippling effect. She blinked, thinking her own eyes were playing tricks on her, but the effect remained and she got an uneasy feeling.

She leaned in close to the others, and whispered to them, without taking her eyes off the artefact, "Miss Somerled, John, don't look now but I think that stone head on the wall up there in front of me is watching us."

John had his back to it and couldn't turn around but Elfraine, who was facing in the same direction as Nuala, slowly and carefully moved her gaze to where the princess had indicated. She gave a gasp of surprise as she saw a distinct rippling movement chasing back and forth across the empty stone eyes. At that sound, the effect disappeared and the head was nothing more than a lifeless artefact once again.

She nodded at John's enquiring look. "There _was_ something there. John, are you able to get it down off the wall?"

"Sure thing," he replied as he looked for something to stand on. There was a small table with a bench-mounted press for re-loading ammunition on the far side of the room, and he quickly dragged it over and positioned it under the stone head then jumped up on the table. The head came off the wall easily enough, and Nuala and Elfraine gathered around him to take a good look at it after he'd got it down. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it and they didn't learn anything from their inspection.

"I've noticed these heads all over this building," remarked Elfraine, thinking back to the uneasy feeling she'd had when she left the building after her first day with the BPRD. "I thought they were just curios, but maybe they have another purpose."

"Yes!" exclaimed John as he was struck by a sudden insight. "Don't you think this attack was a little bit too conveniently timed?" he asked. "I mean, if you were going to attack this place, what better time than when our best agents are out in the field, along with pretty much everyone else?"

"You're right," agreed Elfraine.

"So perhaps whoever directed the attack was able to get the timing right with the help of these heads!" exclaimed Nuala.

"I think we need to destroy as many of these things as we can find," said Elfraine. She quickly unscrewed the re-loading press and took it off the bench. "This should do the trick," she murmured as she raised her arm to smash the head to pieces with the press.

"No! Wait!" John cried out as he grabbed her hand. "We should save one for the scientists to examine properly later. Manning will probably want to have a look at it too."

"Good thinking, John," agreed Elfraine, "though I don't know if you've got any scientists left to examine anything!" She looked around for somewhere to store the head and saw some empty gun bags on a shelf. "This will do perfectly," she said as she opened one of the bags and put the head inside before zipping the bag back up again.

"Well," she said when that was done, "I think it's time for me to go back out again. I'll take care of as many of those heads as I can find, and I'll see if I can't rip the guts out of a few more of those mean bloody puppies too." Elfraine spoke without really thinking about her audience but she quickly realised her mistake when two sets of big, round eyes looked up from their book to stare at her from the other side of the room at the mention of puppies. She coloured slightly and admonished them, with a twinkle in her eye, "You didn't hear that, did you my poppets."

Aithne nodded and Daman shook his head, and Elfraine groaned; she could tell from the looks on their faces that they were very taken with what they'd just heard and were probably storing the words away for later use, much like herself the night before. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Elfraine strapped on her own sword and headed for the door, which John and Nuala had opened for her. "Keep that close," she advised Nuala, with a nod at the Varangian sword as she slipped through the opening, and then she was gone.

**... ...**

Elfraine hadn't been gone for more than ten minutes when John and Nuala were surprised to hear an urgent knocking at the armoury door. Thinking Elfraine had forgotten something, they quickly opened the door and found instead a badly-wounded agent who was on the point of collapse. John was just about to grab the man and haul him inside to safety when a shadow creature appeared from out of nowhere and tore into the injured agent right before John and Nuala's eyes. They could only watch in horror as the shadow ripped apart every particle of the man's being before collapsing in on itself, leaving only an empty and somehow _thinner_ space where the man had once stood.

They quickly roused themselves and went to shut the door, but they were too slow. Another shadow tore into the room just as they got the door shut, and it whirled about furiously. John pulled his gun but he couldn't fire at the shadow; it was moving too rapidly and he risked hitting either Nuala or one of the children, and in any case he quickly realised the bullets would only go straight through it.

Nuala had grabbed the Varangian sword as soon as they got the door shut and she held it out in front of her now as she shielded the frightened children. Her hands were trembling and she was almost mindless with fear, and then the shadow turned in her direction and made straight for her. Her last thought was an instinctive and terrified call for help to her brother... and then the shadow was upon her.

**... ... ...**

**Station Nord, Greenland**

The technicians finally got the generators running again around midnight, and everyone had at least been warm for the rest of the night. It was now very early in the morning and Manning, determined to follow protocol, had gathered everyone together for the debrief on the previous day's events.

"Right, so what did we learn out there yesterday?" he asked as he rubbed his hands together and looked at the team.

"I recognise der hounds," replied Kraus. "Zey are scuccas. It is said zey are der Hounds of Odin und run in der Vild Hunt. Zey are ancient creatures of darkness und serve whoever holds Odin's Rune of der Hunt."

At the mention of the word _rune_ Nuada looked up sharply. He'd already recognised the hounds but hadn't made the connection between the rune Kraus spoke of and the Director's rune. It suddenly all seemed a little bit too much of a coincidence, and he examined Manning closely.

But the Director didn't seem to have made the connection, and he remained oblivious to the elf's intense regard.

Nuada, as usual, kept his thoughts to himself. He would try to work out what it meant once they were back at the BPRD; there might be some way he could use it to his advantage. With one last scowl at Manning, he turned his attention back to Kraus, who was still talking.

"Bullets won't work against dem, as ve haf just seen. Only cold steel or elven silver can kill dem... und obviously Hellboy can rip dem apart. I think too, Liz might be effective against dem vith her fire."

"What about those shadows?" asked Liz.

"I don't know Fräulein," said Kraus. "Zey are entirely unlike anything I haf ever seen or read about. However ve learnt something about dem yesterday. Zey are very dangerous..."

"No kidding!" muttered Hellboy. He'd smarted for a long time after his encounter with them.

"But fire seems to work quite well against dem," finished the doctor.

"Good, good!" said Manning. "All in all, it's been a successful trip! What?" he asked in response to the scepticism on the faces around him at that pronouncement. "We've now had firsthand experience of the enemy and we've got a way of fighting them. I'd say it's been well worthwhile!"

The others grudgingly acknowledged there was some truth to that.

"Now we've just got to get back home so we can share this information with everyone else!" exclaimed Liz, who was anxious to get back to the twins as quickly as possible.

As they turned to the problem of getting out of the remote and isolated station, Nuada suddenly straightened up with an urgent look on his face and cried out, "Nuala! My sister! She's in danger!" Her terror and distress reverberated through his mind, and a sudden visceral fear cut straight through his bitter resentment of her; it never even occurred to him to hesitate, and he reacted instinctively.

Everyone turned to look at Nuada with surprise. Abe had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at the expression on the elf's face, and Liz and Hellboy's thoughts immediately flew to the twins. They quickly looked at each other then all three dived for the prince and grabbed onto whatever piece of him they could reach as he answered his sister's call for help.

"Well that's just great!" muttered Manning as he, Kraus and the other agents stared at the empty spot where the others had stood only a second beforehand. "How do _we_ get out of here?"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

"To be, or not to be, that is the question:  
>Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer<br>_The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune_,  
>Or to <em>take arms against a sea of troubles<em>  
>And by opposing end them."<p>

Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act 3, Scene 1.

'Piteous predicament' – Shakespeare_, Romeo and Juliet_, Act 3, Scene 3.

Varangian Guard: an elite unit of the Byzantine Army 10th - 14th centuries, whose members served as personal bodyguards of the Byzantine Emperors. Members were predominantly from Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Iceland (Viking countries) until the late 11th century by which time the Guard was largely recruited from Anglo-Saxons. They and other Germanic peoples shared with the Vikings a tradition of faithful (to death if necessary) oath-bound service, and after the Norman conquest of England there were many fighting men who had lost their lands and former masters and looked for a living elsewhere. The Varangian Guard also participated in many wars involving Byzantium and often played a crucial role, since they were usually used at the critical moments of a battle.

Dihyā al-Kāhinat: O/C inspired by and based (very) loosely on Daya Ult Yenfaq Tajrawt (c. early 7th century AD – c. late 7th century AD). A Berber religious and military leader who led indigenous resistance to Arab expansion in Northwest Africa. Al-Kāhinat (the female priestess-soothsayer) was the nickname used by her opponents because of her reputed ability to foresee the future.

.

_Chapter posted 3rd May 2012_


	10. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 9**

Nuada found himself on the floor of the BPRD armoury in a pile with Hellboy, Liz and Abe. He bit back a groan of discomfort, and looked up to see his sister, Agent Myers and the twins staring at the tangle of bodies in front of them. The two children stopped their crying and ran to the safety of their parents with squeals of delight. They threw themselves onto the pile enthusiastically, causing even more discomfort to Nuada who was caught at the bottom. "Demon's spawn," he muttered darkly, earning himself a sharp elbow in the ribs from Liz.

"That's my kids!" said Hellboy proudly as he disentangled himself from the others and scooped up the twins in his arms. He secretly felt as if he'd just dodged a bullet.

Liz quickly joined them and reached in to hug her babies. Her relief at finding the twins unharmed was overwhelming and she held onto them tightly.

Abe and Nuada picked themselves up and quickly went to check on Nuala, who was in a distressed state and had tears in her eyes.

Abe hugged her tightly and said in a voice filled with relief, "Thank God you're all right!"

Nuala hugged him back just as tightly. "Oh, Abraham! I've never been so scared in my life! I'm just so glad you're here now."

She looked over Abe's shoulder at her brother, who'd stepped back as soon as he saw she was unharmed. Nuala thought of her conversation with Elfraine the night before when she'd realised Nuada might view her actions in Ireland in a rather different light than the principled stand she considered it to be, and she addressed him hesitantly now. "Nuada! You heard me. I... I wasn't sure if you still could... or if you would come. You were my last hope. Thank you for answering me."

Nuala's words cut into his heart. "Sister! How could you doubt I'd answer your call when you were in such need?" he asked in a tight voice as he started forward.

Nuala looked aside in confusion and no small measure of guilt. She didn't know how to respond to him.

Nuada stopped at her silence and stepped back again without another word.

"What's been going on here?" Hellboy asked as he took in the locked door and makeshift camp that had been set up in the armoury. He was about to say more but was interrupted by a loud commotion coming from somewhere down the hall.

The air was suddenly filled with the familiar baying of the monstrous hounds and they could hear Elfraine yelling out over the top of it, "Open the damn door!"

Before anyone else could move, John was at the heavy steel portal. He unlocked it and as he pulled it back, Elfraine slid in through the opening before he quickly slammed the door shut after her. He got it locked again just as the hounds crashed into it with such force that the room shook. They scratched at the door and growled threateningly then raced off back down the hall, howling as they went.

Elfraine got to her hands and knees as she said, somewhat grumpily, "Well, that's another one of the bloody things taken care of! It's going to take _forever_ to get rid of them!" She stopped in surprise as she noticed the new arrivals. "Oh! Thank goodness! Perhaps it won't take so long after all," she said in a brighter tone as she straightened up. She wiped her sword clean on the tattered sleeve of her once white blouse and slid it back into the scabbard buckled around her hips.

She was about to ask how they came to be there but by now the twins had wriggled out of Hellboy's arms and they rushed over to Elfraine, both chattering away at the same time. Daman, unfortunately, stopped talking to let his sister have her say just as Aithne chimed out, clear as a bell, "You telled off mean bloody puppy Elf!"

The sudden silence in the room was uncomfortable to say the least and Liz started to frown. The others simply stared at Elfraine, who stared right back at them defiantly. At Aithne's tug on her arm, she looked down at the little girl and said "Yes!" with a bright smile.

The twins jumped up and down with excitement at the news and ran back to tell their parents all about it.

Elfraine looked over at Liz and Hellboy as they listened to their children's version of events. She remarked somewhat wistfully, "You have wonderful children – they're such brave wee souls. You must be very proud of them."

"We are proud of them. Thank you," said Liz, looking up at the compliment. She wondered, after listening to her children's garbled account, just what _had_ happened whilst they'd been away and realised she'd need to get the full story later on. Looking at John and Nuala now, as well as Elfraine, she added, "And thank you, all three of you, for looking after the kids and keeping them safe. We'd never have left them here if we thought anything was going to happen to them."

Elfraine heard the guilt in Liz's voice and rushed to reassure her. "I'm sure none of us knew this was going to happen – we're not soothsayers after all. I'll let you know the details of what happened later if you wish," she said, with a meaningful nod in the children's direction.

"Yes, thanks Elfraine," replied Liz. "I'd appreciate that." A sudden thought occurred to her and she gave the other woman a curious look as she asked, "Do you have children of your own?" Liz immediately regretted the question as an expression of utter desolation flitted across Elfraine's face.

"I had a daughter once," replied Elfraine in a quiet, flat voice that didn't invite any further questions. She silently cursed Liz's prescience but she couldn't for the life of her deny that her own darling girl Fortune had once walked this earth. What a cruel jest that carefully and lovingly-chosen name had proved to be, and all for the sake of one word: a 'yes' that should have been a 'no'.

Liz didn't know what to say and there was an awkward pause.

Elfraine glanced away from her, unable to bear the other woman's look of sympathy and as she did so, her eyes fell on Nuala. She detected a hint of distress about the princess and then she saw the Varangian sword on the floor by Nuala's side. "What happened, Your Highness?" she asked with concern... and a good deal of relief at the opportunity to turn the conversation in another direction.

Nuala, who had largely composed herself by now, gave Elfraine a look of sympathy at what she'd just heard. However she recognised the human woman's wish to change the subject and quickly answered her question. "I was attacked by one of those shadow creatures," Nuala informed her. "I... I killed it!"

Abe and Nuada started in shock at that.

"Oh!" exclaimed Elfraine, as she looked at the princess with approval. "Well done, Ma'am!"

Nuala was loath to take credit where she felt it wasn't deserved. "I swung the sword without really knowing what I was aiming for... and I hit it! Then it just sort of... disappeared. It was sheer good luck!" she admitted.

"That's often the way it goes," Elfraine prosaically informed her. "For all the skill a warrior might have, it's more often than not Lady Luck who decides the matter. You can be proud you stood your ground. And don't be too concerned – you'll find it much easier next time!"

"There won't be a next time!" spat out Nuada in anger and disbelief. "My sister will never be put in such a position again!"

"I have to agree with the prince!" exclaimed Abe in an angrier voice than anyone had ever heard him use before.

Nuala privately agreed with their sentiments, and she too sincerely hoped there wouldn't be a next time.

Elfraine was somewhat disbelieving herself, and she raised her brow as she asked with the merest hint of insolence in her voice, "And how do you intend ensuring that happy circumstance, if you don't mind me asking?"

"That is none of your business!" Nuada informed her coldly.

Elfraine continued on, ignoring the prince's rebuke. "I don't see how either of you can guarantee it, unless of course you intend to stitch yourselves to the princess's side for the rest of your lives." She paused, before muttering under her breath, "And what a merry little trio that would make!"

John, sensing trouble, jumped in quickly and explained to the others, "It looks like the princess was the target of this attack. The whole thing started yesterday when two of our agents tried to kill her in the library."

"Yes," broke in Nuala. "It was only thanks to Miss Somerled that they failed!"

John continued. "Elfraine killed one of them and we've got the other one locked up. We can question him later on, if he's still alive! Anyway, we've been holed up here since yesterday afternoon. Elfraine's been making trips out to get supplies and when she was out just now one of those shadow creatures got in and went straight for Nuala. It was just as well Elfraine spotted a Varangian sword here in the armoury and showed the princess how to use it last night. I don't like to think about what would've happened if she hadn't!"

"You should see this sword," Nuala said to Abe and Nuada as she bent down to pick it up. As soon as her fingers touched it, it lit up.

"I'm well aware of what it is," Nuada informed her shortly. "I've seen such swords before." About ten centuries ago he and Wink had fought a small detachment of the Varangian Guard. The Guard had been trying to bind a tribe of travelling Djinn for the Byzantine Emperor - another proud, greedy, hollow human who sought dominion over more of the world than was his right. Several of their members had been born of magic and they'd had the flaming swords. The fight had been a hard one but he, Wink and the Djinn warriors had won in the end. They'd clashed first with the Norsemen in the Guard and even Nuada had to admit the Berserkers were a force to contend with, fighting with a ferocity he'd seldom encountered before or since. But when all was said and done, they were human and they couldn't match the skill of their opponents. The Guardsmen with the swords of fire had then weighed into the fight, and they'd been much harder to defeat. However, their unholy alliance with the humans had weakened their spirits and clouded their minds, and they too eventually fell before the onslaught of those who held true to the ancient ways of magic.

Of course, Nuada didn't tell his sister any of this. He ruthlessly shut the door on those memories; they would only lead him to the old, familiar, pain-filled thoughts of the Djinn woman he'd met that day – a woman he'd once thought to make his wife. Instead, he walked up to Nuala and took the sword from her then turned to Elfraine and said in a cold voice, "I wonder how it is that _this _human recognises such a weapon." As he was speaking, the flames died down and the sword became simply a length of gleaming steel in his hand.

Elfraine looked surprised at that and remarked, "Well, you obviously know something of controlling the powers of the sword. I wonder how it is that _you_ came to learn such a thing."

Nuada scowled at her. He laid the sword down on the small table beside him and then turned his attention back to his sister and Agent Myers. "Manning gave me his _word_ that my sister wouldn't come to any harm here. It doesn't surprise me that his word was _worthless_! What was Nuala doing anywhere _near_ those shadow creatures? How could you let her place herself in such danger?" He glared fiercely at John as he said that. In truth, after seeing what the shadows were capable of in Greenland he was almost sick to think of Nuala being within a thousand miles of the foul creatures let alone taking them on with only a flaming sword. By the Gods! She could have dropped it at any moment and he didn't like to think about what would have happened then. She might have betrayed him four years ago but Nuada found that he couldn't wish such a fate upon her.

Abe was feeling no better about what he'd just seen and heard, and admonished John sternly. "Agent Myers, I'm deeply disappointed in you! Prince Nuada is right – Director Manning also assured _me_ that Nuala would be safe here. What were you thinking to let the princess take up arms against those creatures! The Director will want a full accounting and for once, I'll be in complete agreement with him!"

"No one _let_ me do anything!" broke in Nuala, annoyed at how they were talking around her as if she had no voice of her own. "I make my own decisions and I carry my own weight!"

Abe and Nuada looked at her in surprise, as if they'd almost forgotten she was there, and Elfraine slid a sideways look at them as she wickedly added her ha'penny's' worth, "They seem a bit overwrought Ma'am. Perhaps you should _slap_ them! It _is_ the time-honoured remedy for hysteria after all!"

At that, the two _angry_ males turned to impale her with hostile looks. "I hardly think that's helpful Miss Somerled" Abe said, taking offence at her suggestion.

"You're not being particularly helpful yourselves _gentlemen_," replied Elfraine. "We each did what we had to and I think the results speak for themselves! It's particularly churlish of you to take us to task for making every effort to preserve our lives. It's not as if any of _you_ were here to help the cause!"

Liz could see things were getting out of hand and quickly turned the conversation back to their more immediate problems. "We can talk about this later," she said with a sympathetic look at John. "I think for now though we should concentrate on getting this place secured. We've obviously got more of those hounds and shadows to deal with. How many are there?"

"I've killed seven of the hounds so far and counted at least another twenty still prowling around the place," Elfraine told her. "I don't really know how many shadows there are though – maybe four or five I think. They move so quickly it's hard to tell. But I do know they're damned dangerous!"

"Yes, we've discovered that Miss Somerled," Abe informed her. "We ran into both the shadows and the hounds in Greenland. While bullets are next to useless against either of them, cold steel and elven silver work well enough on the hounds and fire is very effective against the shadows. And Red here can deal quite well with both the hounds _and_ the shadows." He paused slightly before continuing. "I do wonder though how _you've_ managed to fare so well as to kill seven of the hounds."

"Oh, I've learnt a thing or two in my time Agent Sapien," replied Elfraine, shooting a narrow look at Nuada as if daring him to open his mouth.

The prince swung his gaze back to her with an impenetrable look. The human woman could obviously fight back. He wondered why she hadn't put up more of a fight in the alley four nights ago. But then again, maybe she had. He'd left just as the cabalus was getting started and he'd obviously missed _something_.

"Anyway," Elfraine was saying, "We need to put an end to this now and I have a plan to do just that. Liz and Abe, you stay here with Nuala and John and defend this position, and the children. It'll go a lot easier with your help. From what I've seen, the hounds are concentrated at the front of the building to the north, amongst the trees. I think the quickest way to deal with them is to surround them and then destroy them. I'll take the eastern flank and Prince Nuada, you take the west. We'll press in on them and keep them busy while our demon friend here circles around behind their position and attacks from the north. Make sure you cut off all retreat too," she said to Hellboy. "Oh, and if anyone sees any stone heads, smash them. Their attack was just a little bit too conveniently timed yesterday. They've been using the heads to keep watch on us and that's how they knew exactly when to strike. Right, are there any questions?"

Elfraine didn't really expect any and turned to start for the door but Hellboy stopped her in her tracks. "Yeah, I've got one! Who put you in charge?" he asked belligerently.

Nuada smirked as the demon asked the question - it spared him the trouble. Though it galled him to admit it, the human's plan had merit but he resented that it might appear he was taking orders from her. It was just as well the demon pointed out she was _not_ in charge.

Elfraine gave Hellboy a narrow look and said shortly, "Well, if you _think_ you have a better idea then by all means let us hear it!"

"I think we should rush them – a blitz attack!" Hellboy stated.

A look of disbelief crossed Elfraine's face. "Where's the organisation and control in that? It's a bit... short-sighted at the very least. I must say, I would have expected you'd have a better idea of how to go about things... or perhaps Manning still has you in training," she said with a condescending look at the demon. "And besides," she carried on, ignoring Hellboy's fierce scowl, "what do you think will happen if any of them slip around behind us and get in here? How do you think the others will fare then? At least with my plan, we won't have our backs to the building. We can keep an eye on it and take the necessary steps should they look like they're about to overrun the place!"

"Liz can take care of anyone who tries to get in here," replied Hellboy confidently.

"I'm sure she can... for a while! But it's a very confined space and there's only one way out. I dare say that in taking care of anyone trying to _get_ in the room she might also end up inadvertently taking care of everyone _already_ in the room!" Elfraine paused for a moment to let that sink in. "The sooner we get rid of them the better... and _my_ plan's the best way of doing that!"

Hellboy opened his mouth to reply but Liz cut him off and put an end to the argument. "Who votes for Elfraine's plan?" she asked as she raised her own hand. John, Nuala and Abe all raised their hands and the twins, seeing which way the decision was going, quickly raised theirs too.

But Hellboy was reluctant to back down and he turned to Nuada and said, somewhat desperately, "Back me up here prince! Tell them I've got _your_ vote!"

Nuada scowled in disgust at the lot of them. He couldn't believe they were even discussing the matter, let alone bickering over it, let alone _voting_ on it! "_No one_ has my vote!" he bit out tersely. "The woman's right Demon. Now let's get on with it!"

He made for the door without a backwards glance, and left Hellboy and Elfraine to follow in his wake. But Nuada wouldn't have been at all happy if he'd looked back. His sister silently picked up the Varangian sword again and gave Abe a stern look of warning when he opened his mouth to protest.

**... ... ...**

Hellboy, Nuada and Elfraine quickly made their way to the rear exit of the building. Elfraine headed left and directed Hellboy to the right with Nuada. When they reached the elf's position, he'd carry on and circle around behind the hounds as planned.

"Thanks for your help in there _prince_!" Hellboy said to Nuada in a disgruntled voice as they made their way through the trees. "Guess you were too _scared_ to disagree with that bossy woman!"

Nuada sneered at him. "I thought you approved of the woman. You certainly seemed to find her amusing enough when you met her a few days ago," he reminded the demon.

Hellboy grinned at the memory and said, "Yeah, well I wasn't on the receiving end then! She got _you_ good though didn't she!"

"I'd say she was more accurate and amusing in her description of _you_!" shot back Nuada, pushing aside his own ire as he recalled exactly what the woman had said to him. "How did she put it? You're short-sighted and have no idea what you're doing, and Manning still has you in training. Oh, and you let her take charge of your team. I'd say _you _arethe one who's been _effectively gelded_!" He was gratified to see Hellboy give him a look of pure dislike – he'd obviously found his mark. "You clearly make an easy target for _bossy women_!" he added.

"I do not!" argued the demon. "I just don't sweat the small stuff!"

"Like giving up charge of your team!" said Nuada cuttingly.

"I _didn't_ give up charge of my team!" said the demon tersely.

"You're the only one foolish enough to believe that," Nuada replied with contempt.

They'd reached the prince's position by now and Hellboy shot him another look of annoyance. "I liked you better when you didn't talk so much! Mind you don't mess up your hair _pretty boy_," he said mockingly.

"Look after your own hair Demon! You don't have Miss Sherman to save your sorry hide now!" Nuada snarled at him.

"A hundred bucks says I kill more of those beasts than you do! Or don't you bet either _Your Highness_!" challenged Hellboy, determined get the upper hand.

"On the contrary," replied Nuada as he drew his sword. "I'm more than happy to take a wager, but not for mere _human_ money. I'll see you shortly to collect your admission that _I'm_ the better fighter and _you_ will never be my equal!" And with that he ran forward to meet the two hounds that were heading in his direction.

"Aw crap!" muttered Hellboy with one final frown at the Elven warrior before he raced off towards his own position. "Now he's got a head start on me!"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Djinn: Arabic spirits, or genies, who inhabit an unseen world in dimensions beyond the human world in Islamic mythology. The djinn, humans and angels make up the three sentient creations of God. The Koran mentions that djinn are made of a smokeless and scorching fire, and they have the physical property of weight. Like human beings, the djinn can also be good, evil, or neutrally benevolent.

Jiniri: female Djinn.

.

_Chapter posted 9th May 2012_


	11. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 10**

It didn't take Hellboy long to deal with the six or so hounds he found to the north of the building. Once he'd finished, he looked to his right and saw the prince had things under control at his end. Elfraine was in the trees to his left and although he couldn't see her clearly, he could tell she was still on her feet fighting, and had killed at least one hound. A flaming glow in one of the windows of the BPRD building got his attention, and he thought it might be a good idea to head on over there and see how Liz and the others were getting on. He stopped briefly when he reached the elf, and asked smugly, "Need a hand _prince_?"

"No!" snapped Nuada as he neatly side-stepped an attacking hound and sliced through its neck with his sword. He spun round quickly and his blade found the heart of a beast attacking from the other side.

"Good," said Hellboy. "This looks like the last of the hounds and I haven't seen any shadows. I think we've taken care of everything now. I'll head on back to the building and see if the others need a hand. You can go and help her when you're done here," he said with a nod in Elfraine's direction. "Oh, and get your next lot of orders too!" he added with a smirk.

Nuada gritted his teeth at that. He leapt over the bodies of two hounds lying in front of him and sliced off the leg of another one that had just sprung to attack. He twisted out of the way of the beast as it collapsed then flipped round to plunge his sword through the top of its neck, severing its spinal column. "Just make sure you're ready to pay your debt when I get back," he snarled at the demon as he turned to meet the next hound.

Hellboy paused at that and looked at the pile of hounds dead on the ground around the prince. After giving the elf a dark frown he set off to find Liz and the twins, keenly aware that a serious loss of face was probably headed his way.

It only took Nuada another five or so minutes to dispatch the remaining hounds. Once that was done he looked over to where the woman was still fighting the last three, which were surrounding her. He quickly realised it was his chance to find out more about how her magic worked and he watched carefully. However he became increasingly frustrated in his endeavour because each time she took a deadly hit from one of the beasts, it seemed he either blinked at the wrong moment or the air somehow shimmered, obscuring his view, and then there she was again, whole and unmarked, and he was none the wiser. The only thing he could see clearly was an agonising look of pain that flitted across her face before she so miraculously recovered each time.

He frowned as he watched her and started to assess her battle style instead. It was, by any measure, reckless and inefficient and, as far as he could tell, what strategy she had seemed to consist mainly of tackling the hounds head on and hoping for the best. She'd already taken a handful of killing blows from their deadly jaws and talons, and if she'd been a more skilled fighter she wouldn't have taken any! No wonder she ascribed success in battle to "Lady Luck" as she'd so erroneously told his sister, though she had a little more than mere luck on her side.

It occurred to him he should have been enjoying the sight of the hounds dealing out her just deserts, even if they weren't permanent. Instead Nuada found he was getting irritated by what he considered was her obvious incompetence. As he watched though, he noticed that while the beasts were gradually tiring, the woman was not; she wasn't even breaking a sweat. There was some sort of crude method in her madness after all, he supposed. She would eventually wear them down and then slay them but she was taking far too long to finish what should be a straightforward job.

He realised her stamina probably had something to do with the magic she commanded and he felt a stab of annoyance. In the natural order of things, she should've been dead centuries ago and yet here she was – a human who'd achieved what was the ultimate desire of their proud, hollow, selfish hearts: immortality. The thought made Nuada more determined than ever to find out all he could about the woman before him. So far he'd seen only one chink in her armour; the mention of her dead daughter had put an effective dampener on her. He was certain she would have other weak spots too, and he'd discover them all and then use that knowledge to aid in her destruction.

As he focused anew on the fight, one of the great hounds suddenly leapt through the air towards Elfraine and she dropped to her knees to dodge it, whilst thrusting her sword up into its chest. She held the hilt with both hands and slashed down the length of its underbelly as it flew overhead. Blood and entrails splattered over her, despite her best efforts to avoid the mess.

Nuada shook his head in disgust. He was by now thoroughly annoyed with her blunt, clumsy style of fighting and the sooner he put an end to the travesty playing out before him, the better. He ran over to her, grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and threw her behind him as he faced the remaining two hounds.

Elfraine landed with a thud and rolled into a crouching position as she tried to work out what had just happened. She quickly sat back down when she saw the elf, and though she glared at him in annoyance for his rough handling she realised it was preferable to getting torn to shreds by those blasted hounds.

As she watched how he dealt to the monstrous beasts her expression gradually changed to one of grudging admiration. He had speed, strength and skill, and he combined those qualities to deadly effect. "Oh, now that _is_ good!" she murmured enviously as he leapt up with feline grace to meet an attacking hound, and sliced through the tendons of its rear legs with a swift backslash, rendering it incapable of further movement. His sword continued its upward swing in a seamless arc and found the heart of the other beast. Nuada twisted in mid air and landed beside it as it fell to the ground, avoiding the spray of blood that gushed from the wound. Then in one smooth movement he turned back to the wounded hound, dropped to one knee and slit its throat.

He was breathing hard when he'd finished and as he recovered his breath, he turned his head to glare at the blood and gore-splattered woman sitting before him quite unperturbed and seemingly unaware of the deficiencies in her fighting style.

Elfraine took note of his furious expression and got in quickly before he could say anything. "You needn't thank me for wearing them down for you. I was only too happy to help."

"I _wasn't_ about to thank you and I certainly don't need your _help_ with anything, _human_!" he bit out with disgust as he quickly stood up and towered over her, sword still in hand. "Let me tell you, your fighting skills are _indescribable_!" he said contemptuously.

Elfraine gave him a narrow look. There was no pleasing the impossible creature. "Please, feel free to make the attempt. You look as though you might do yourself an injury if you don't and I'd hate to be the cause of any harm to your exalted self," she remarked sardonically as she leaned back on her elbows to await his pronouncement.

Nuada glared at her and continued on in a sneering voice. "_Nonexistent_ is perhaps a better word. I have never seen such an _inefficient_ and _incompetent_ display, and that includes from any number of raw recruits I've trained for the Elf King's army! Youths with next to no fighting experience would look like experts alongside you! You have no skill and no strategy, and it took you far too long to make even the slightest headway against those hounds!"

Elfraine stared up speechlessly at him. She opened and closed her mouth several times but was totally lost for words. She knew damn well she hadn't been that bad! The elf was just being petty and vindictive. She quickly scrambled to her feet and sheathed her sword, determined to wipe the sneer off his supercilious face. "Well!" she exclaimed as she put her hands on her hips and faced him. "Thank you very much for pointing that out _Your Highness_! And I suppose the hounds I _thought_ I killed were actually stricken dead by an excess of mirth at my incompetence and inefficiency," she said in a voice laden with sarcasm.

Nuada curled his lips in contempt and, ignoring her obvious sarcasm, said in a cutting voice, "I don't want your thanks, human. It's entirely for my own benefit that I make the point. I'd suggest you work on your technique so you can at least hold your own in future without having to rely on someone else to come to your aid."

Elfraine clenched her fists at his insulting words; her fingers itched to slap the smug look off his face. "I don't recall asking for your help and I'll thank you to keep your nose out of my business _in future_!" she snapped at him. "And one more thing! You might outclass me in speed and strength but if I'd had a weapon on me the other night neither you nor your accomplice would have made it out of that alley alive! It would have been a battle of attrition and _I_ would have won – as I _always_ do! You would have tired, I would have got in a lucky blow and then it would've been all downhill for _you_ – slowly but surely! When your opponent _can't_ be killed, how far do you think competence and efficiency are going to get you?"

Nuada opened his mouth to put her right about that but Elfraine continued on without pause. "And you're wrong to think I'm _entirely_ without skill! I just didn't feel the need to show off... unlike some I could name!" she sniped at him.

"I do _not_ 'show off'!" he said tersely as she paused for breath. He realised, too late, it would have been better to ignore her puerile comment.

Elfraine pinned him with a satisfied look and said smugly, "I never said you did. But if the shoe fits..."

Nuada stared at her with malevolent dislike and as he did so, he noticed her tattered blouse. It was now only a few filthy shreds of material held together by little more than good luck, and it was no longer really covering anything. "Then you must be talking about yourself, woman," he smirked as he insolently flicked at one of the shreds with the end of his sword.

Elfraine looked down and frowned when she saw what he meant. "Well, I certainly can't go back into the building like this!" she said in exasperation as she knocked his blade away and crossed her arms over her breasts, before giving Nuada an expectant look.

He had no idea what she was waiting for, and simply stared at her with contempt.

It was yet another reason to get irritated with him, Elfraine thought. The thick-headed elf was obviously not acquainted with good manners. "If you were a gentleman, you'd offer me your shirt and spare me the embarrassment!" she prompted acerbically.

Nuada looked at her in disbelief. Surely she couldn't honestly think he would give her - a _human_ - his shirt! "Your embarrassment is of absolutely no concern to me," he informed her coldly.

"Ah, Elven chivalry at its best I take it," Elfraine remarked snidely. "I've met _sewer rats_ with more manners than you!" she snapped at him. "Perhaps if you spent some time with them, you might learn a thing or two about polite behaviour!"

Unfortunately for her, that remark was a little too close to home. Nuada thought angrily of all the times he'd been forced to live in old, dark, long-forgotten chambers and tunnels hidden underneath human cities. "I _have_ spent time with sewer rats and I've certainly learnt more from them than I've ever learnt from any filthy piece of human scum!" he snarled at her.

Elfraine looked at him in dislike, and felt a strange and unfamiliar need to retaliate on behalf of her kind. She threw caution to the wind as she said, "Then let me correct that deficiency in your education _Your Highness_. We_ humans _expect a reasonably high standard of gallantry from someone who bears the title 'prince'. Perhaps you'd do better to follow _our_ example in Elfland rather than lurking in sewers and trying to learn your manners there!"

Nuada's hand unconsciously tightened on the hilt of his sword and he glared at her as he tried to think of some suitable and _lasting_ punishment for that slur. But before anything could come to mind, the harpy had opened her mouth to speak again.

Elfraine was entirely fed up with the elf's intransigence by now and decided he obviously needed a harder push to do the decent thing. She uncrossed her arms, placed her hands on her hips again, and, with a toss of her head, murmured provocatively, "Or perhaps you like what you see, _Your Highness_."

Nuada suddenly looked as if he'd swallowed a live toad, and she had to suppress a laugh.

"There is nothing even remotely appealing about you, _human_ so don't delude yourself!" he said in a tone of utmost disgust. "Your whole kind is an abomination and an offense to Nature and you, in particular, are one of the _most_ offensive humans I've ever met! The idea that I could possibly _like what I see_ is one of the most arrogant and prideful conceits I've ever heard spew forth from the mouth of a filthy human! I might have rutted with your kind in my youth, but I have more discerning tastes now!"

"Oh ho! The elf doth protest too much, methinks" said Elfraine slyly, undeterred by Nuada's vitriol. She was now determined to have his shirt off him. "You might think you've convinced the world that you're an astute and clever fellow but you only convince me that you secretly _like_ what you see. I think you're hoarding the sight of me to yourself like a miser, and it's a _delicious_ little vision that you'll pull out later... to play with in private," she purred with a knowing look. "I can't _wait_ to tell the others that you wouldn't help me cover up because you were getting too much _pleasure_ out of ogling me," she added wickedly.

Nuada now looked as if he'd swallowed a whole knot of toads and Elfraine had to bite the inside of her mouth to stop herself from laughing at the sight. She supposed she should feel insulted by his obvious disgust of her; after all, she'd once been counted amongst the brightest stars in Elizabeth's court, after the queen of course. She'd been a favourite with the gentlemen, and some of the other ladies, of the court, and a good number of the noblemen of Europe had busied themselves trying to win her affections when they weren't pressing their suits with the queen. However Elfraine wasn't particularly offended by the elf's attitude; he was honest at least... and besides, there was more sport to be had out of him like this than if she had him on his knees before her.

She also got what she wanted. In next to no time, Nuada had dropped his sword, removed his spear and armour, and pulled off his shirt. He thrust it in her face, saying in a disgusted tone, "Here! Cover yourself up, _woman_!"

It took Elfraine even less time to shrug into the shirt. Pulling her hair free from the collar, she looked up to graciously thank him, thus giving him a lesson in good manners... and drew a sharp breath instead. He was busy strapping his weapons onto his back again and she let her eyes roam over the hard muscles of his well-defined chest. He was certainly very fit and very nicely put together, she thought as she admired his strong arms. It was a shame the same couldn't be said for his character and temperament. He'd tried to have her killed after all, and there were some things she just wasn't prepared to overlook. But she could at least enjoy the view while it lasted. Elfraine's appreciative gaze slid down to the taut, white, ridged planes of his stomach, and the tantalising sight of his loose-fitting pants riding low on his lean hips. Her eyes were about to go even lower still when a sound of annoyance from Nuada quickly brought them back up.

"Perhaps you like what _you_ see, woman," he said caustically, as he picked up his armour and hooked it over one arm.

Elfraine coloured slightly and shrugged apologetically, though the expression in her eyes was anything but sorry. It was only then that the scars marking Nuada's shoulders and torso registered, and she took a second look at them, thinking he'd seen some hard fighting in his time. Her eyes suddenly narrowed as another thought struck her. "Ah ha!" she exclaimed, looking up at him triumphantly.

Nuada knotted his brow in a questioning frown and Elfraine enlightened him, with a nod at his scars. "You're obviously not _always_ so quick on your feet, are you! You'll forgive me if I don't take any advice from _you_ on the finer points of swordplay."

Nuada stiffened in fury at her words, and a golden haze began to cloud his vision. He could hardly believe what he'd just heard. He'd always considered his scars to be badges of honour; each one bore testament to his unwavering defence of his people. He would have borne a thousand more such scars if it meant his kind could be free to live as they deserved instead of having to hide away in the dark, filthy corners of the world. And for millennia he'd been the most skilled warrior in his father's army, striking fear into the hearts of countless proud, hollow, human enemies. His prowess had been well-known throughout all the many kingdoms of Earth, and now this insignificant _human_ flea was standing before him in _his_ shirt, telling him he was _not always so quick on his feet_ and she _wouldn't be taking any advice from him on the finer points of swordplay_! Nuada's hands clenched at his sides, though they'd rather have been wrapped around her neck, and he gave her a deadly look as he snarled in a low, chilling voice, "If you say one more word, woman, I'll..."

"You'll what? Kill me?" interrupted Elfraine in a bored tone.

"No!" he bit out tersely whilst imagining her dead at his feet and what's more, _staying_ dead! And that was the problem with the infernal creature: using the Silverlance against her was out of the question - until he'd found out more about how she became immortal in the first place - and he was unable to think of any other means by which to silence her viperous mouth.

But necessity, ever the mother of invention, suddenly supplied a solution of sorts to Nuada. His eyes lit up with a gleam of savage satisfaction as he thought of what he _could_ do to silence her, for a while at least. If pain or death weren't options, the humiliation of a suitable chastisement might be worth a try. He reached out and grabbed Elfraine, his fingers digging into her arm as he pulled her close. Leaning down, he said in a quiet, deadly voice, "If you say one more word, I'll put you over my knee and give you the _spanking_ you so clearly deserve!"

Elfraine's eyes widened and her mouth, already half open to make a retort, quickly snapped shut at his words. He wouldn't dare... would he? She slid him a considering look and drew breath to speak again.

Nuada tightened his grip on her and leaned forward, almost eagerly, with a feral look in his eyes, and Elfraine quickly shut her mouth again. He obviously would dare! She wrenched her arm free, spun around, and set off for the building at a smart pace. It was a long and unnerving walk back though; he was on her heels the whole way, and she didn't dare open her mouth once.

**... ... **

They arrived back at the building and met Nuala, Hellboy, Liz and the twins in the entrance way. Elfraine didn't know if Nuada's threat still remained in force so wisely kept silent for the time being. In all her adult years she couldn't recall anyone ever threatening to spank her, though she was sure there were probably some who'd wanted to for one reason or another. She crossed over to stand slightly behind Nuala, who was in front of a passageway leading off the main entrance. The princess might afford _some_ protection if her brother was so boorish as to try and make good on his words. Elfraine frowned at the prince as she tried to think of some way to deal with his humiliating threat; it was intolerable to have it hanging over her head!

Nuada, meanwhile, stood on the opposite side of the room and bared his teeth at Elfraine in an evil smile. He was well aware what she was up to and if she thought it would do her any good to hide behind his sister's skirts, she was sadly mistaken. He was also extremely gratified to see his threat had worked; the harpy hadn't said a word since he'd made it.

"You two finish off the last of those hounds?" asked Hellboy.

"Of course," replied Nuada as he turned his attention to the demon, "which reminds me, I believe you owe me something."

Hellboy frowned and said, "Yeah? Well, I ain't admitting nothing til we've done a final count!" His frown quickly turned to a grin though as he noticed Nuada's appearance. "Anyway, it looks like you've already lost the shirt off your back!" he said with a meaningful nod in Elfraine's direction.

Nuada scowled at the demon and shot a look of pure dislike at the creature who _was_ wearing his shirt. He was about to make a reply when Abe called out as he came down the stairs with John.

"Good, you're all back! We've just finished checking around. We smashed as many of those stone heads as we could find but there may well be one or two we've missed. Some of them were quite hard to spot," Abe informed them. In fact, in the short time since they'd destroyed the heads Abe had already noticed a lift in the atmosphere of the place in spite of the death and destruction they'd discovered. It stood in stark contrast to the vague unsettling feeling he'd had over the last four months, and he wondered if the heads had had something to do with that earlier feeling of unease.

As everyone was looking up at Abe and John, a noise came from the passageway directly behind Elfraine and Nuala, and they all turned to look in that direction. They were surprised to see another agent stumbling towards them, covered in blood.

"Please! Help me!" he cried out, and Elfraine and Nuala started towards him.

However, when they were only a few steps away from him, he pulled down a halberd from a wall display and lunged at Nuala. The women turned to run and Elfraine instinctively covered the princess's back. She took the full force of the blow, and the spear went into her back and came out through her stomach. In the time it took her to look down at it and then turn back to the agent, Nuada had reached them and decapitated the man with a single sweep of his sword.

Elfraine grasped the halberd with both hands and tried to pull it out but it didn't budge. A chorus of horrified gasps distracted her and she looked up to see _most_ of the others standing there staring at her with dismay. Liz and Nuala were looking particularly upset, and Hellboy had gathered up the twins to shield them from the awful sight. Elfraine was truly sorry the children had to witness what had just happened but there was no helping it. There was also no point in being coy about it anymore – her secret was well and truly out. "Would someone lend a hand please?" she asked through gritted teeth as she gestured to the spear. "It seems to be stuck on something, and it hurts like the very Devil!"

Nuada was the only one who was not staring in horrified fascination and he quickly moved behind her. It might be the best chance he had to find out something more about her magic. He grabbed her shoulder firmly and held her still with one hand, then swiftly pulled the weapon out with his other before Elfraine realised what he was about.

She shrieked in agony as it came free. "Devil take you elf!" she swore as she reflexively tamped down the pain and pushed through the black tide of death as it rose up to overwhelm her. "You could've pulled it out cleanly from the front instead of dragging it backwards and mangling my innards all over again!"

"My apologies," said Nuada, sounding anything but sorry as he threw the weapon down in disgust. It seemed he'd blinked again and yet he was certain he hadn't. He still had hold of Elfraine and he turned her round to face him, closely examining the place where the spear had been. There were two gaping holes in his shirt, one in the front and one in the back, and he thought with annoyance that it was probably beyond repair now. It was yet another thing to hold against the human pestilence wearing it. He pushed the material aside and placed his hand on the flesh underneath, his fingers moving lightly over her skin in exploration; he might learn something yet.

Elfraine yelped and slapped at his hand. "Do you mind, Sir!" she exclaimed in annoyance.

"I don't mind at all, woman," he replied distractedly as he brushed away her hand and continued his examination.

Elfraine decided enough was enough! She placed her hands on the hard planes of his naked chest and pressed them into his warm, firm flesh in a slow caress, mimicking the movement of his own hand on her. Nuada stiffened and raised his head in surprise at the intimate touch. He gave Elfraine a questioning look, and she gave him a good sharp push, catching him off guard.

He stumbled backwards and scowled fiercely, but made no further attempt to touch her after that.

The others were still staring at Elfraine with open mouths but as their brains began to work again, they started asking questions all at once. She merely waved them off and said, with an air of delicate fatigue, "You'll have to forgive me - I'm utterly exhausted. I think I should return home to change and rest. His Highness can answer your questions. He knows the main parts of the story." She then darted a wicked look at Nuada as she said to him, "Oh, and don't be shy in telling them _how_ you discovered my secret, Sir. I'm sure they'll be properly impressed with you! I know I was!" She turned and brushed past Nuada with a nasty smile as she murmured for his ears alone, "It would seem I have no more secrets to protect so I'll be damned if I help keep yours now!"

However Nuada was having none of that. He grabbed her arm as she went to move off and stopped her, holding her firmly against him as she tried in vain to escape his grasp. "No, no," he said. "I wouldn't dream of trying to tell your story. I couldn't do it justice." He looked over her head and spoke to the others. "We'll wait until tomorrow when we can hear the details from Miss Somerled's own lips." At that last part, his voice dropped and his gaze shifted to linger intently on her mouth. His head dipped towards hers and his long hair lightly brushed the side of her face. Elfraine gave a soft gasp of surprise as she looked up into his face, so close to her own that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek, and at that sound his eyes flicked triumphantly back up to hers with a smug, knowing look.

Elfraine knew payback when she saw it and she remarked tersely, "I might as well get it over with now then!" She looked over her shoulder at the others and said, "I'm four hundred and thirty two years old and I can't be killed. I think that about sums up the main points." With that, she finally managed to wrench her arm free from Nuada's grip and marched off, leaving far more questions than answers behind her.

**... ... ...**

He was beside himself with fury! All his hard work lay wrecked at his feet, and the considerable resources he'd devoted to his latest manoeuvre had been expended for nothing! Shadows, hounds and human vassals had all been sacrificed for no appreciable return. Anger coursed through him as he thought too of the effort he'd made to ensure the BPRD was emptied of its most powerful agents along with the majority of its other field staff. His spies had had a clear run at the princess, and her brother was far enough removed from her so that he would come to no harm in the unlikely event that some vestigial trace still remained of the physical link they'd once shared. Everything had been meticulously and perfectly aligned for the next stage of his plan, and it had all been wrecked! He knew he wouldn't get another chance like this; they'd be on their guard now. And it was all the fault of that stupid, interfering little bitch! She would pay, the Draoidubh thought to himself. He'd see to it personally!

The Elven princess should have been dead by now, and Manning's promise to keep her safe from harm broken. The breaking of that promise, given in return for her brother's oath not to attempt to destroy the human race, would have released the prince from the bonds of the rune stone and its spell... and from his oath, and he should have been occupied now with destroying the BPRD, and especially Anung Un Rama, in vengeance for the death of his sister. The elf had bested the demon once before, and the Draoidubh had no doubt he would have done so again.

No longer bound by his oath, the prince would have then prosecuted his war against humanity, using one of the armies provided by the Draoidubh. And while the Sons of the Earth and the humans were tied up in a fight neither could win, his shadow forces would be destroying the Light - and the magic of Light - in the world. By the time anyone realised what was going on under their very noses, it would be too late. They would all perish in cold darkness and only those who pledged allegiance to the Him would be allowed to continue their existence... until He tired of them or had no further use for them.

For now though, the Draoidubh could only fulminate against the ruination of his carefully laid plans, and the cruel fates which decreed that neither he nor his shadows could destroy the demon. He could cast great spells and he could take on almost any other creature on this earth but because he had once been human and had not been _born_ with magic woven into every fibre of his being, he didn't have the wherewithal to defeat Anung Un Rama. Only another powerful creature born of magic could do that... a creature like the elf, who was now bound to him, however tenuously, and in his service did he but know it.

The Draoidubh glanced at the stone head on the table in front of him. It reminded him that he'd been unable to get a clear look at that bitch of a woman. Each time one of the heads had sighted her, she'd appeared to him as if shrouded in a mist, and her features had been obscured from sight. For all that she was human, and he could tell that she was, there was obviously something different about her. He would find out her secrets and then he'd set about revenging himself upon her for the undoing of his plans.

It did briefly occur to him that she might be the consequence for his great act of magic in bringing the Elven twins back to life, and that was an additional source of bitterness to him. It was yet another fetter the fates had set upon him; creatures born to it could work any magic they pleased but the fates decreed that a balancing consequence should attach to any great feat of magic worked by anyone who had once been human, as he had been. There was nothing he could do about that - for now - and he quickly dismissed the thought that this woman was _his_ consequence. He was certain she would not prove consequence _enough_ for such an act as the Elven twins' resurrection, and that she would fall swiftly and easily before him.

He angrily swept the Celtic head off the table and watched it as it smashed on the flagstones of the castle floor. It was useless now that the other ones in the BPRD had been destroyed; he had no way of keeping watch on things without them, not that it mattered any longer. A more direct approach was required and although that was something he'd been hoping to avoid, he had new plans to make and so he set about his scheming with a vengeance.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

'The elf doth protest too much, methinks': an appropriation of 'The lady doth protest too much, methinks' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act 3, Scene 2.

Draoidubh: (Gaelic) Dark sorcerer - 'draoi' meaning druid or sorcerer, and 'dubh' meaning black or dark.

.

_Chapter posted 17th May 2012_


	12. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 11**

They all stared at Elfraine's retreating figure for a few moments, barely able to believe what they'd just seen despite their vast experience of the paranormal world. Gradually they turned, one by one, to look at Nuada.

"What else do you know about Miss Somerled, Your Highness?" asked Abe carefully.

"Nothing else!" replied Nuada shortly. "What she told you is as much as I know!"

"Oh," said Abe with a hint of puzzlement in his voice.

"Guess we'll just have to wait til tomorrow then," Hellboy stated matter-of-factly.

"Apparently so," said Nuada in an annoyed tone. He didn't hold out much hope of learning anything further from the woman the next day. She seemed to be quite good at avoiding questions she didn't want to answer.

He turned to go to his rooms and get cleaned up but was stopped by a question from his sister, who was looking at him with some concern.

"How _did_ you find out about Miss Somerled's abilities, brother?" she asked in a hesitant voice as an unwelcome thought started to form in her mind.

Nuada confirmed her worst fears when he replied impatiently, "How do you think, sister?"

"Oh, Nuada!" she said with quiet disappointment. "Miss Somerled has saved my life twice now. Agent Myers and the children and I are only alive thanks to her efforts. I owe her a very great debt and would hate to think you'd still try to harm her after all she's done for us."

"Well, you needn't worry yourself on that point, Nuala. It would seem nothing can harm the woman!" Nuada remarked bitterly, and not at all reassuringly.

"Still, I would take it as a very great favour if you'd give me your _word_ you won't seek to harm her again in any way," Nuala pressed.

"Then I fear you'll be disappointed, sister. I find I am sick of giving my word, and I certainly won't be making any promises in respect of _that_ creature!" he snapped before he turned and headed up the stairs to his rooms.

Nuala watched him go with a worried expression on her face.

Abe could see she was uneasy and put his arm around her shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe when he's had a chance to think about it, your brother will acknowledge Miss Somerled's efforts. Try not to worry about it too much for now, my dear."

However Nuala knew her brother too well to think he'd concede that a human had done anything worthy of thanks, or easily give up any plans for vengeance against one. It hadn't escaped her notice that Nuada seemed to find Miss Somerled a particularly aggravating human, and indeed there'd been a couple of occasions in her own dealings with the woman when she'd felt the same way. But she was not happy to think the human might be repaid for her efforts by coming to harm at the hands of her brother. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see," she replied, unconvinced by Abe's assurances.

There didn't seem to be much else anyone could do for the moment and though Manning would no doubt have some idea of how he wanted to proceed when he returned, no one knew when that would be.

"I guess we could all use a little down time," said Liz as she looked at the tired faces of the twins, who were nearly asleep in their father's arms. It had been a hard couple of days for them, and she thought the best thing she and Red could do now was spend some time with them and try to get things back to normal as quickly as possible.

"Good idea, Liz," agreed Abe as he looked at Nuala's weary face. He could only imagine how terrifying the last two days had been for her.

They said goodbye to John and headed off to their respective rooms, leaving Agent Myers to stand in the entranceway and survey the damage around him. There was quite a lot that needed to be repaired.

"Well, I guess I'd better see if I can get some builders to start work on this place and at least fix those doors today," he said to the empty foyer as he thought unhappily of Manning's likely reaction when the Director finally got back from Greenland.

**... ... ...**

Some hours later Nuada was startled out of his reverie by a loud banging noise and a high-pitched, ear-splitting whine. He straightened up and, leaving his position by the window of his room, went out into the hallway to investigate. The noise was coming from somewhere downstairs and he headed off to put an end to it.

He arrived at the top of the first flight of stairs to see some workmen repairing the front doors, and Agent Myers talking to another person at the foot of the stairs. They hadn't noticed him and he didn't announce his presence.

"But we need to get the security cameras and sensors working again ASAP," Myers was saying.

"Yeah, but we just don't have enough replacements in stock. We'll have to get some more in from our supplier and they won't be here til tomorrow," said the other person. "And it's going to be a pretty major wiring job to get the main console back up and running. Whoever trashed it made a good job of it!"

Myers gave a groan of frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess there's nothing else I can get fixed today then," he said miserably. He'd been hoping to have the security system back up and running before Manning returned, and this delay was a definite setback.

Nuada listened to their conversation with interest. He quickly realised this would be the perfect opportunity to search Manning's office and find out whatever he could about the rune stone the human had gotten his hands on. It would also be a good time to visit his source at the Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór and make further inquiries there. He'd been unable to discover anything about Manning's rune stone from his friend at the Troll Market but then he'd had nothing of any substance to go on at the time. The new information about the Rune of Odin might now shed some light on _Manning's_ rune stone. He could also seek out the cabalus and find out what had happened with the human woman four nights ago. The situation seemed to be working to his advantage for a change and if he was lucky, he might get the answers to a few burning questions. With that optimistic thought in mind, Nuada retreated silently and returned to his room to await nightfall. The noise of the door repairs no longer bothered him quite so much.

**... ... ...**

It was fairly late by the time everyone had retired and settled down to sleep but finally the building was quiet and Nuada could begin his night's work. He carefully shut the door to his rooms and headed in the direction of Manning's office. As he'd expected the door was secured but it only took a moment to charm the lock and gain entry.

Nuada quickly and methodically searched both the Director's room and his secretary's office but found absolutely nothing about the rune stone in either. He gave a wry grimace as he realised he'd harboured an unrealistic hope he might find the actual stone itself; Manning would, of course, have it on him at all times. He was more disappointed though that he could find no information on the rune stone, and nothing which gave any hint as to where or who it had come from.

Still, his search hadn't been a complete waste of time. In one of the cabinets in the secretary's office, he'd found a personnel file marked 'Elfraine Somerled' and he sat down in the chair behind the desk to read it. However it too proved to be fairly disappointing in what it revealed about the woman. He found out she'd worked in various universities, museums and libraries as an archivist over the past fifteen years but beyond that there was no other information about her. The only thing that might prove useful was her address, and Nuada added that to his list of tasks for the night. He could check out her lair and see if there was anything to discover there.

With one last look around, he decided there was nothing else to be gained from Manning's office, and so he locked it back up and set out for the Troll Market.

**... ...**

Nuada quickly sought out the bookseller once he arrived at the market. The ancient creature was one of the great repositories of learning for the magical races, and Nuada had a tremendous respect and liking for him. With any luck, the dioltóir leabhar would have some useful information now on the Rune of Odin. As he walked into the shop the bell over the door rang to announce his presence. But it wasn't the bookseller who emerged from behind the curtain on the other side of the counter. A pixie, about three feet tall and dressed in a simple black gown and white mob cap, rushed out instead but stopped short when she saw Nuada.

"Your H-h-highness!" she stammered, clearly disconcerted. There was a pause before she bobbed in a quick curtsey as she belatedly recalled the required formalities.

"Who are you?" asked Nuada, not unkindly as he recognised her nervousness.

"I... mind the shop now," she replied hesitantly.

"Where is the dioltóir leabhar?" asked Nuada patiently.

This was the part the pixie had been dreading and she wondered why it had fallen to her to break the news to the prince. It wasn't fair. "H-h-he was killed t-two days ago," she told him.

Nuada started in shock. "What do you mean?" he asked, unable to believe what she'd just told him. "What happened?"

"A strange black shadow beast came the evening before last and-and attacked him. He didn't stand a chance – it-it cut him to pieces. Then it just... vanished!" she replied as she looked at the prince with concern. He was starting to look every bit as upset as she'd expected. She was aware he thought highly of the bookseller and knew this must be hard news for him to hear.

Nuada shook his head in disbelief as a wave of anger and grief swept through him. The bookseller had been a wise and trusted friend, and one who was always willing to share his knowledge unstintingly when asked. It didn't seem possible that he was no longer alive. Nuada mastered his grief with difficulty and looked up at the pixie. "Tell me everything," he demanded in a hard voice.

The pixie gestured to a seat at the rear of the store and the prince walked over to it and sat down.

She told him her story. "I was in here two nights ago talking to the bookseller. We heard a noise in the alley and went out to see what was happening. There was a large black shadow creature. It was like nothing anyone had ever seen before and it caused a great deal of panic as it whirled around. But it seemed to have some purpose, and it ignored everyone and everything until the bookseller stepped out of the shop. As soon as it saw him, it pulled out a strange black sword and made straight for him. It was terrible. It just... sliced into him with the blade, again and again, and when he was dead, it-it vanished. The light and air seemed... different afterwards. I-I can't explain it," she finished miserably.

Nuada sat with his head bowed; he was silent for a long moment. Anger and grief were not the only emotions roiling through him at the present time; he was also overcome by a great wave of shame. He had discovered not long after his resurrection that the inhabitants of the Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór now lacked a strong and well-armed royal militia to defend them on their own ground. His father, for all his failings, had at least maintained some semblance of order in their fading world. However, following the deaths of his sister and himself, his people had been left utterly bereft of any sort of effective overarching leadership. Instead, the different factions within the kingdom had descended into petty politics which in no way served the wider interests of his people. Nuada was only all too aware that the fault for the present state of affairs could be laid squarely at the feet of the royal family... his family. When he finally looked up, he asked quietly, "Did the dioltóir leabhar say anything before the shadow killed him?"

"He did. It was a name I think, but I don't know what it means," she replied. "He whispered 'Grosseteste, you fool!' and then the beast was on him and those were the last words he ever uttered," she finished sadly.

Nuada pondered on the name. It was not one he knew and he would have to make further enquiries, though the Gods only knew who he could ask now the bookseller was dead. And that reminded him of his question about the Rune of Odin, which he'd been hoping the dioltóir leabhar could answer. He looked up at the pixie and stared absentmindedly in her direction as he tried to think of another way to find out what he wanted to know.

She grew nervous under his steady regard and misinterpreted it. "I c-could ask someone w-what the name means," she offered.

"What?" said Nuada as she got his full attention.

"I know someone w-who might be able to help," she repeated.

"Really?" asked Nuada with interest.

"Yes," she replied. "I can ask her if she knows who or what Grosseteste is, if you like."

"Please, do that. And ask her too if she knows anything about the Rune of Odin," Nuada commanded.

"Certainly, Your Highness," said the pixie with another curtsey.

"Good," murmured Nuada as he stood. "I'll call back in a few days to find out how your enquiries went," he said before he walked back out into the alley.

It was with a heavy heart that Nuada left the book store. He considered deferring the rest of his night's work in light of the terrible news about his old friend but decided it would be better to stay busy. It would distract him for a while, and he couldn't find out anything if he didn't _do_ anything. Surely something about this cursed night had to go in his favour!

His next task was to speak with the cabalus. Nuada finally tracked him down in one of his usual haunts, a rough, dark tavern on the far fringes of the Troll Market. He bought two tankards of ale at the bar and went over to the table where the creature was sitting.

"How are you, my friend?" he asked as he straddled the low bench seat and set one of the tankards in front of the goblin. He made sure he was facing the room; even here he had his enemies and had to watch his back.

The cabalus glanced up at him with a baleful look and answered in hissing tones, "Sick! Sick! Sick, my prince! The human made me so sick, I will never eat one again! I have come to drown my sorrows, which are many."

Nuada looked at him with surprise and concern. "Tell me what happened!" he commanded.

With another accusing look, the cabalus did as he was bid. "I ate it all up as you wished, and very tasty it was too. Then after some time I went home and lay down. But my guts tried to crawl out of my throat and I was so sick! I spewed and spewed for three days and three nights. It tore and tore and tore me to pieces. This is only some of what I sicked up!" said the creature with a shudder as he pulled out a piece of hard, white, opalescent material from his vest, and held it out to the elf.

Nuada took it and examined it closely. It was about the size of his palm and he had no idea what it was; he'd never seen anything like it. "May I have this?" he asked, looking up at the cabalus.

"Yes, yes, yes!" replied the creature quickly. "Take it! Take it! I hate it! The sight of it makes me want to be sick again!" he hissed. "I only kept it for you!"

"I am very sorry," said Nuada with genuine regret. "If I'd known she would have this effect on you, I'd never have asked it of you."

"Humans used to be my favourite food, and now I'll never eat another one again!" wailed the creature mournfully. "What can I eat instead?"

"I don't think you need to avoid _all_ humans... only that one," advised Nuada. "If you ever see _her_ again I'd caution against eating her, though I doubt you need that warning now. She's different from the others."

The cabalus looked up in surprise at the prince's words. "But I killed it, and ate it, and it made me so sick! How could I see it again?"

Nuada scowled as he told him, "She's not dead! Apparently she can't be killed."

The cabalus suddenly looked very worried. "Oh! Oh! Oh! What did I eat then? What will happen to me?"

Nuada rushed to assure him. "I think you've probably already suffered the worst effects of eating that particular human. I'm sure you'll come to no further harm. If you're concerned though, go to the Elven healer at the other end of the market and get her to examine you. Tell her Isent you."

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" muttered the cabalus. He finished his drink in one swig and rose from the table, intent on getting to the healer as quickly as he could.

Nuada leaned back against the wall after the creature had gone, and finished his own drink at a more measured pace. He set the hard, lustrous object on the table beside him and considered it while he drank. With the bookseller dead, he wasn't sure who he could ask about the strange item. It occurred to him that Johann Kraus might be able to shed some light on it; he seemed to be a font of knowledge when it came to the paranormal but Nuada was loath to ask the doctor, although he realised he might have to as a last resort. He decided to wait and see what the pixie came up with on the Rune of Odin and Grosseteste, whatever that meant. If she found out anything useful he'd ask her about this piece too before he tried Kraus. Nuada finished his drink and stood up as he retrieved the unusual object from the table then left the tavern.

He walked outside and stopped for a moment, unconsciously flipping the iridescent fragment in his hand as he looked up at the sky. Day would be breaking soon and he supposed he should be heading back to the BPRD. He thought briefly about leaving his examination of the woman's lair for another time but decided to get it over and done with. She lived reasonably close to the BPRD, and the distasteful task would be a fitting end to a night which had already brought such bad news and disappointment.

He set out for the address he'd obtained from her personnel file and eventually reached his destination. Concealing himself in the shadows across the street, he watched the building for a few minutes, studying the lay of the land. The signage on the front announced to the world that _Pickwick's Rarities, Importers and Exporters of Fine Antiques_, conducted its business from the premises during daylight hours, and it all looked very ordinary. The building was cloaked in darkness now except for a solitary light coming from a window on the top floor, which according to the file in Manning's office was where the woman lived.

Nuada quickly climbed the fire escape and made his way to the roof. He found a spot on one corner from where he had a clear view of the terrace of her apartment, though he couldn't see inside. She was obviously an early riser; he could hear her moving around on the floor below. She was also singing an old ballad in a tuneful and pretty voice as she went about her preparations for the day, and some of the lyrics caught Nuada's attention.

A dark look settled on his face though as he listened to the song. It was about a lady who, enchanted by an elf-knight, made a wish for him to come to her, which he did. The elf then bore her away to the greenwood where he told her he would kill her and bury her body with those of seven kings' daughters whom he'd already slain. The lady tricked the elf and charmed him to sleep before she bound him with his sword-belt and slew him with his own dagger, leaving his corpse to lie as husband to those of the seven women he'd already killed.

By the time the song was finished, Nuada was frowning fiercely and it was only with great effort that he restrained himself from confronting the human woman over her false song, which heaped insult after insult upon his kind. It only confirmed his opinion that she was not to be trusted, and he wondered what else he would discover of her perfidious nature this morning.

The sky had grown light, and Nuada decided to take one last, closer look at her lair before heading back to the BPRD. He'd just jumped down to the balcony and concealed himself with a glamour when the woman burst through the doors and onto the terrace with an eager look in her eyes and a silver flute, of all things, in her hand. She lifted her face to the rising sun and closed her eyes for a brief moment then put the instrument to her lips and started to play as the sun crested the horizon.

**... ...**

Elfraine was delighted to see the sun again; a bright, clear sky would provide the perfect antidote to the grimness of the last few days and chase away the shadows in her heart, for a while at least. And, to her mind, the perfect piece to offer in tribute to the glorious sun was the badinerie from Bach's Suite No. 2 in B minor.

She'd been an itinerant musician when she washed up at the court of Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Köthen in the spring of 1718 towards the end of the period she now thought of as her 'lost' years. It was not long after Bach had finally taken up his appointment as Kapellmeister to the prince, and Elfraine considered the short period she'd spent working with him to be one of the highlights of her time on earth. Though he was never accounted a great composer in his own lifetime, the intricate, ordered perfection of his compositions appealed to her from the outset, and she'd followed his music and career with great interest after that.

Behind every note he ever wrote was a Christian devotion which, as far as she could tell, never wavered throughout his life. She'd lost her own faith just over one hundred years before she met the composer, and she could only admire and envy Johann's apparently steadfast and life-long certainty. Though she'd ceased in her own devotion long before he was ever born, his music never failed to lift her spirit, and in those moments when she was performing his work she knew a momentary peace in which she was able to catch, once again, a fleeting glimpse of something like a God in Heaven.

**... ...**

Nuada looked on in surprise as he grudgingly acknowledged to himself that the woman was a reasonably competent musician... for a human. He knew the piece of music she played; it was a delightful, lilting one that skipped along at a fair pace, and as the crisp, clean notes chased joyfully after each other and rang out to the sky's vault, he couldn't help but raise his eyes to the clear, blue expanse of the new day. Against his will, his heart started to lift and the merest whisper of surprise at this unexpected insight into the woman, who was a _human_ and who'd done nothing but infuriate him thus far, started to breathe in his mind.

But before the thought had time to fully form, he was distracted by the sight of something dark in the distant sky. He shaded his eyes and squinted against the blinding light of the rising sun as he tried to make it out. After a few seconds he saw what looked like two large birds flying towards the building. They were silhouetted against the sun and it was impossible to discern any of their features but he could tell that they were moving far too rapidly, and quite unlike any bird he knew of. Nuada cursed silently and drew his spear as he immediately thought of the shadows he'd seen in Greenland only two days before. He didn't know whether the Silverlance would be any use against them but he was obviously about to find out.

The dark forms swiftly closed in on the building, and as they approached Nuada stiffened, hardly able to believe his eyes. He could make out their features now and he froze at the sight. A small ripple of a long-forgotten feeling, hope, stirred under the ice around his heart, and it was a revelation to him because until that moment he'd been so busy fighting the world he hadn't even known he'd ever lost it. But it awoke in him now, and all because of something he'd never thought to see again; for the first time in almost two thousand years dragons once more graced his vision, and delighted his mind and heart.

In the clear, sharp light of daybreak, two young dragons darted and swooped in the first rays of the sun. They were each about seven feet in length, and long and thin, having not yet attained the size and bulk of adulthood; that would not happen for thousands, and thousands of years. Earthy browns of every shade entwined with black to make up the colours of their shining, glistening, iridescent scales, and all was threaded through and tipped with an antique gold that also gave colour to their translucent, gossamer-thin wings, which were finer and stronger than any Elven silk. Large, green eyes glittered like emeralds in the head of each creature, and pearl-white teeth flashed between their red-tinged mouths as they exhaled icy, cloud-white puffs of breath.

Nuada had never seen a more beautiful sight, and he was not aware that he held his own breath as he watched in awe. The dragons flew to within a few feet of the terrace and danced to the music as the woman continued to play in the crisp, clear morning light. The balcony became a pantheon to the sun with music and dance offered in worship, and as warm fingers of fire stretched out to caress the world and bathe it in a golden glow, the sorrows and troubles of the night receded. For a brief moment it almost seemed that a day had never broken so brightly or so full of possibility and promise since the beginning of time.

The wondrous creatures alighted gracefully on the terrace and delicately fluttered their wings with a gentle rustling sound before folding them flat against their backs. Nuada left off his glamour and walked slowly towards them as if mesmerised... and was suddenly brought up short by a sharp jab to his chest. Startled by the rude interruption and annoyed with himself for not paying more attention to his surroundings, he tore his gaze away from the dragons and found himself staring down the barrel of a gleaming, silver flute, and facing the angry-looking woman attached to the other end of it.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór: (Gaelic) [the] Great Eastern Troll Market.

The song Elfraine sings is 'Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight' – Child's Ballad #4.


	13. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 12**

Elfraine got a nasty surprise as the Elven prince suddenly appeared on her balcony out of nowhere, a dark thought made real without warning. She immediately noticed the weapon in his hand and the intense, fixated look in his eyes as he stared at the dragons and started walking towards them. Her own eyes narrowed dangerously and she swore under her breath as she became aware she had nothing with which to defend them apart from the flute she held. It would last all of about two seconds once he started swinging that wicked-looking spear around... if she was lucky. Furthermore, she couldn't imagine the elf being so cooperative as to stand by quietly while she retrieved a sword from inside with which to disembowel him if he made any false moves.

Looking down at the flute with a frown Elfraine decided it was a case of needs must, especially given the golden-eyed devil driving her now. She lunged forward and jabbed him sharply in the chest with the instrument then held it to his face as he came to an abrupt halt and tore his gaze from the dragons to focus on her instead.

"How dare you come to my house uninvited and with your weapon drawn! And to then have the audacity to threaten the inhabitants of my home! It's insufferable!" Elfraine exclaimed angrily as he eyed both her and the flute with haughty disdain.

He started at her words and said coldly, "I threatened no one."

She tilted her head to one side and gave him a look of disbelief before nodding meaningfully at his spear.

He looked at it in surprise, almost as if he'd forgotten he held the weapon.

Meanwhile on the terrace behind Elfraine, the dragons had started running around in an agitated fashion. They began chattering excitedly in a language that was a mixture of clicks, chirps, and humming noises with an occasional growl thrown in for good measure.

"Then put your weapon down!" Elfraine demanded as she spoke over the noise they were making. "They think you mean them harm... and I'm _sure_ you do!"

"Mean them _harm_?" exclaimed Nuada. As he looked at the two young dragons again and listened to what they were saying, he realised with dismay that he _had_ disturbed them. "I'd as soon cut off my sword arm as harm them!" he averred unguardedly.

Elfraine was inclined to believe him as she took note of his fervent tone and the brief flicker of wonder she saw in his golden eyes before his guard went back up. She'd feel happier when that sharp-looking spear was put away though. "Then put your weapon down," she repeated firmly.

Nuada gave her a look of dislike but complied with her request while the chattering dragons ran over to stand at her back. They raised themselves up on their hind legs, rested their forearms on her shoulders, and looked curiously over her head at Nuada as he sheathed his spear. Once it was safely away, they ran out from behind Elfraine and rushed over to get a better look at the elf. She followed them to keep a close eye on things; she didn't _entirely_ trust him.

Nuada knelt down on one knee so he was at eye level with them, and held out his hand to the young creatures with a relaxed look of genuine delight on his face. Elfraine drew a sharp breath as she watched them make each other's acquaintance, and wondered if he realised what a heart-stopping smile he had.

The dragons, meanwhile, scampered around him, pausing every few seconds to examine his face, his hair, his clothes and everything else about him. He was the first elf they'd ever seen and he had to be properly investigated. Elfraine noticed, with a touch of resentment, that they seemed to be quite taken with him. He bore their examination with great patience, and made no move to rush them.

His patience came to an end though as he suddenly looked up from the dragons and fixed her with a hard stare. "How did you come by these creatures?" he demanded in a voice rife with accusation.

Elfraine immediately took exception to his tone and replied shortly, "That's none of your business!"

Nuada gave her a fierce glare and stood up to tower over her threateningly. "_They_ are none of _your_ business, _human_!" he snarled with a nod in the dragons' direction.

He then addressed the young creatures in a voice that held no hint of harshness. "You're free to go when and where you please. You no longer have to answer to any human. I'll deal with her personally if she gives you any trouble," he added as he looked down menacingly at Elfraine.

She merely rolled her eyes at him, wondering, this time, if he realised how tiresomely repetitive he could be. Turning her attention to the two young dragons, she asked dryly, "Do you hear that, my pretties? The noble Elven prince has gallantly freed you from the tyranny of your human mistress and you may now go when and where you please! I wonder what you'll do with your newfound freedom."

One of the dragons started to dry retch alarmingly as she spoke and Nuada started forward, suspecting the woman had somehow done something to it. Elfraine jumped back and grabbed his arm without thinking, quickly pulling him out of the way as the creature regurgitated a large lump of flesh and bone along with a small quantity of lightly-coloured, soupy-looking liquid.

She let go of the prince and leaned over to peer closely at the pile of remains at their feet. "I'd hazard a guess it's a sheep's hock if those white tufts of wool are anything to go by," she remarked. Turning to Nuada with a wicked smile, she continued, "Please, feel free to take it Your Highness. I imagine it's their way of expressing gratitude for their deliverance from the chains of my cruel servitude."

Nuada gave her a look of disgust, and she teased him as she exclaimed, "Never say you're squeamish, Sir! That will not do. You'll hurt their feelings."

"What have you done to them?" he asked fiercely as he thought of how sick the cabalus had been after _his_ encounter with her. The Gods only knew what she'd done to the dragons!

"Nothing!" she snapped as her teasing mood vanished and she eyed him with renewed dislike. He was very quick to jump to the worst conclusion possible and it was becoming exceptionally annoying. "They usually bring something back for me to eat after they've been hunting! They're very beneficent masters and obviously like to think they're keeping their pet well-fed!"

At Nuada's look of surprise, Elfraine went on to explain in a more even tone, "I'm sure that's how _they_ see _me_. They are, as ever, free to come and go as they please, and for the better part of the last four hundred years it has pleased them to remain with me... or let me remain with them if that's how you wish to consider it."

Nuada looked at the dragons and was silent for a long moment. He struggled to digest the news that she had apparently _not_ somehow bound them to her in captivity, and that, moreover, they stayed _willingly_ with her. He was by now only too well aware he couldn't compel her in any way, and he realised he'd find out nothing further about the creatures if he continued to deal with her as he had so far. With that thought in mind he finally turned to look at Elfraine again before asking in a grudging though polite enough tone, "Would you be so good as to tell me how you... _found_ them?" His mouth tightened slightly as he spoke but he managed to keep the look of contempt off his face.

If Elfraine was surprised by his reluctant civility she didn't show it. She slid him a considering look as she wondered if his interest in the dragons might blunt his hostility towards her a little and make him less inclined to interfere in her business. She decided it was worth a try and in any case, letting him know the story of how she found them would cost her nothing. With that thought in mind, she replied obligingly enough as she gestured to the remains on the terrace. "I'll gladly tell you but first I have to clean this up. You can wait inside if you like and speak with the dragons. It'll give you a chance to learn to understand them. You only need to listen to them, and after a while you'll find you can somehow comprehend what they say."

"I already understand the speech of dragons," he informed her, "though it's many, many centuries since I last heard it."

The dragons, who'd been listening closely, ran up to Nuada and nudged his legs then scuttled inside the apartment. They appeared to want him to follow.

"I will, however, speak further with them now," he continued at their prompting, "and leave you to your... foraging." The word that actually sprang to mind was 'scavenging' and although he tried to keep his tone neutral, Nuada couldn't contain a brief look of distaste as he glanced down at the remains on the terrace before turning to follow the young dragons inside.

Elfraine caught his look and sighed in exasperation as she wondered if there was any unflattering conclusion he _wouldn't_ jump to. "Your Highness," she said quietly, so as not to attract the dragons' attention.

He stopped at the door and turned back to her impatiently.

"I'm not actually going to _eat_ this you know," she told him dryly as she gestured to the large lump of flesh on the terrace. "Four hundred years ago I might have sent it to the kitchens to be cooked up... but my tastes are more discerning now," she added with a mischievous look before she brushed past him to walk inside and get something with which to clean up the dragons' offering.

**... ...**

Elfraine quickly cleaned up the remains and disposed of them in the dumpster downstairs. When she got back to her apartment, she found Nuada had put aside his weapons and was sitting on the floor of the living area, leaning back against one of the couches. He was conversing with the dragons in a beautiful language she had never heard before. They were listening to him with rapt attention and if they didn't already know what he was saying, they soon would; just as their speech became comprehensible by listening to it, so they too could learn any language by hearing it being spoken for a while.

"What tongue is that?" Elfraine asked as she walked over to the kitchen.

"It is High Elvish," answered Nuada shortly, annoyed at her interruption.

"It's a very lovely sounding language," she remarked.

Nuada inclined his head stiffly in acknowledgement of the compliment. "My peoples have two languages: High Elvish, which we use for formal occasions and working great acts of magic, and ancient Gaelic, which we use for day-to-day matters."

"Gaelic!" exclaimed Elfraine. "I know a little of that language from my youth - not enough to follow a conversation but some words. My ancestral home was very close to the Scottish border and it was spoken a great deal in the area in those days. I didn't realise it was also spoken by elves," she remarked casually as she washed her hands.

Nuada didn't bother with a reply to that. "Would you tell me how you came by the dragons now?" he asked impatiently instead.

Elfraine strolled back into the living area and took a seat across from him. "Certainly," she said as she took her time arranging herself on the couch. She hid a smile as she saw the look of annoyance on Nuada's face, and began her tale. "It was in the springtime of 1615. I was returning home from some... business in the forest of Carterhaugh just on the other side of the Scottish border from my ancestral seat of Miles Cross Hall. I was almost out of the woods when I found these two," she said as she looked at the dragons.

Although they'd heard the story many times before the young creatures were always extremely interested in it, and they sat, one on each side of Nuada, with their large glittering, green eyes fixed firmly on Elfraine as she recounted it for the prince.

"I know that forest," Nuada murmured. "I thought the dragons that lived there died out thousands of years ago."

"Well, these two were still alive when I found them, though only just," said Elfraine.

Nuada fixed her with an enigmatic look. "Go on," he requested.

"I'd reached a particularly gloomy part of the path when my mare suddenly stopped and refused to go any further. For all that I looked I could find nothing wrong with her except that she didn't want to move. It was very puzzling - she'd never done anything like it before. As I was trying to think of what to do, I heard a noise coming from nearby. I went to investigate and found these two young ones lying under a tree. They were a great deal smaller than they are now – I could easily carry them in my arms - and were in a bad way. They weren't far from starvation and it seemed they'd been abandoned. I couldn't see any sign of a nest or a parent nearby so I decided to take them with me. After I took them up, my mare was more than happy to continue. I think she'd somehow known they were there, and in need of help."

"And you didn't consider leaving them or killing them?" he asked. It was the reaction he would have expected of a human.

"No, no, not at all," Elfraine assured him, horrified at the suggestion. "I was in perfect charity with all dragons at the time. Besides, my mare wouldn't budge until I took them up, and I didn't fancy the walk back to Miles Cross Hall," she added dryly, with a hint of self-deprecation.

Nuada gave her a sharp look. "Why would you be in 'perfect charity with all dragons'?" he asked with suspicion.

Elfraine gave him a sharp look of her own as she remarked, "You certainly don't miss a trick, do you!"

"Well?" demanded Nuada.

Elfraine considered for a moment whether or not to answer him. She decided it probably wouldn't make any difference whatsoever if he knew the truth and besides, she realised she had the perfect leverage in the two dragons; she thought him unlikely to use the information against her if he knew it would upset them, which it would, and so she answered his question.

"Have you not guessed by now?" she asked slyly. At his puzzled look, she explained, "It was a dragon that made me immortal!"

He looked startled at that. "Not one of these two, surely!" he exclaimed. "They're too young to work such magic."

"No, not one of these two," Elfraine affirmed. "It was a much bigger and older dragon. And the only reason I'm telling _you_ is because I'm quite sure that only an even _bigger_ and _older_ dragon again could ever undo what the first one did to me. I certainly don't think a mere elf could manage it!" she added, rather unwisely.

"We'll see about that!" snarled Nuada, taking exception to her words and going on the attack once more.

"Argh!" he exclaimed in pained surprise as each dragon suddenly gave his nearest arm a nip with their sharp teeth.

Elfraine laughed at that and crowed with indecorous glee. "That's it, my pretties! Put him in his place! Only four days ago he threatened to destroy both the source of my powers and me! He's a most quarrelsome creature and I daresay he deserves a great many more such nips... if you'd be so obliging."

The dragons were not, and turned instead to eye Elfraine's arms with interest as Nuada, frowning darkly, rubbed his own.

She recognised their look and backed off quickly. "Oh, all right then. I suppose you've made your point," she said somewhat grumpily, and with more than a hint of disappointment.

Looking at Nuada once again, she explained with a smirk, "They don't take too kindly to any threats to me. If you wish to keep their good opinion, you'll have to promise to abandon your plans for my destruction – a small enough price to pay, don't you think."

Elfraine could tell by the look on his face he didn't think that at all, and he proved her right as he spoke to the dragons in Elvish. She gathered from what they said in reply to him that he was urging them to agree to her destruction but the dragons remained steadfast in their refusal.

"You do realise I can make a good guess as to what you're saying to them, don't you?" she asked in a slightly condescending tone.

"Yes!" bit out Nuada, thoroughly annoyed that he couldn't persuade the dragons to his way of thinking.

"You might as well make the promise," she advised him pragmatically. "You won't bully them into changing their minds and besides, you won't lose anything in the long run either. I'm already on the road to Hell and I'll take care of my own destruction in my own good time, though that might not be as quickly as _you'd_ like!"

He gave her a look of surprise at that. "What do you mean?" he demanded harshly.

"I don't exactly cover myself in glory in the telling of that tale so you'll have to excuse me if I don't give you any of the details," replied Elfraine shortly. "But rest assured I have things pretty well in hand so there's really no point in satisfying your vulgar curiosity at the expense of my dignity."

Nuada wasn't at all certain he agreed with that but the dragons wanted his promise, and so he gave it grudgingly now. "Very well," he said as he looked down at them. "I promise I won't harm your human in any way or seek to destroy her."

Looking at Elfraine again, he said nastily, "And I wish _you_ fair speed on your journey!"

"Of course you do!" she laughed, and went to get up.

Nuada stopped her though as he asked, "What happened to the dragon that made you immortal?" Once again, the accusation was evident in his voice.

Elfraine sat back down with a sigh. "I can assure you it came to no harm. It certainly gave me what I asked for but what I got was not what I meant." She paused for a moment, lost in thought, and a brief look of sadness flitted across her face before she added, somewhat bitterly, "I've no doubt that particular dragon is sitting in its den somewhere still laughing itself silly at my naive stupidity, and well-pleased with itself for the fine trick it managed to play on me."

That took some of the heat out of Nuada's anger though it still irked him that there was obviously a lot she wasn't telling him.

Elfraine looked up with a forced smile. "Anyway, you seem rather taken with these young ones. I would have thought dragons were quite commonplace to an elf."

"They were once," he told her in a more even voice, "but until today I thought they'd been wiped out of existence by _humans_. The last time I saw one was about seventeen hundred years ago before that piece of filth, George, slew it at Silene, in Libya." And with that, he worked himself up into a temper again.

He also managed to work up the dragons. At the mention of the name 'George', they started to growl alarmingly and Elfraine gave them a worried look. "Please! Your Highness! No more about him. We don't speak his name in this house for obvious reasons. Let us just say he was properly punished for his sins and leave it at that."

"I doubt he was punished enough!" said Nuada tersely, unwilling to leave it alone.

The dragons growled even more fiercely in agreement with him.

"Well, I imagine _no_ punishment would seem sufficient for his transgressions but three sessions on a wheel of swords then losing his head before the city walls could be called a good start, don't you think," said Elfraine diplomatically as she tried to calm things down. She could see though that neither elf nor dragons were very convinced by her reasoning.

"And in any event, dragons didn't entirely disappear from the world, did they," she tried again. "I found these two almost four hundred years ago, and then there was the one who made me immortal on the very same day. So there's at least three that are still around. Who knows how many others may yet be about the place," she finished optimistically.

That seemed good enough for the two young dragons and they quickly settled down again.

However Nuada still had a dark look on his face as he continued to think about the human who was made a saint for his sins. "Three times on a wheel of swords, you say?" he asked Elfraine, with a deadly look in his eyes.

"Yes, three times I believe... followed by decapitation!" she replied.

"Child's play!" he snorted in disgust. "I would have devised a far better punishment!"

"I'm sure you would have," murmured Elfraine as she recalled the cabalus. She could have said more on that subject but decided not to; there was no point in getting into another argument with the elf.

Anyway, it was almost time to leave for the BPRD and there was one other thing she wanted to get sorted out before they left. "On what I hope is a more agreeable note, please feel free to visit with these young ones whenever you wish, Your Highness," she said. "The best times are sunrise, when they return from hunting, or about nine in the evening, when they wake up. They usually stay here for several hours before heading out around midnight."

Nuada looked up with both surprise and suspicion at the unexpected invitation. "That's very... generous of you," he said. "I wonder why you make the offer."

"They seem to like you, and I think it would be in their interests to meet more members of the magical races," explained Elfraine. "I do my best with them you know... but I'm only human," she added, with an irony that escaped Nuada entirely.

Instead he took her words at face value, and finding that he couldn't fault her reasoning, said, "Very well. I'll visit with them again." He stood up and picked up his weapons.

The dragons seemed quite pleased to hear that, and being satisfied too with his promise not to harm their human they walked through the balcony doors and back out onto the terrace. They climbed up onto the ledge of the wall surrounding the balcony and stretched out in the morning sun as if to go to sleep. However as Nuada watched they turned to stone, and anyone looking at them now for the first time would never guess they lived and breathed.

Elfraine walked over to the door leading out to the landing, and turned to explain to Nuada as he looked at the stone dragons, "That's how they pass their days. They lie there and listen to the world, and somehow they learn all that's been before and all that's happening in the moment. It wouldn't surprise me to find out they also divine the future."

Nuada made no response and remained standing there, staring at the dragons.

Elfraine cleared her throat and said, as she tried to hurry him along, "Well, shall we away to the BPRD, Your Highness? I daresay there are one or two others who'll be interested in what I have to say this morning."

He broke off his musings and gave her a hard look as he replied. "I'll leave the way I came, and I'll make my own way back to that accursed place." With that, he strapped his weapons onto his back again and walked over to the balcony door. He paused before he left though and turned to Elfraine, staring at her for a long moment as he seemed to struggle with something. He finally looked out at the clear, blue sky then turned back to her and said, very graciously and with apparent sincerity, "Thank you for inviting me back into your home." He then went out onto the balcony, not bothering to shut the door after himself, and quickly and silently disappeared onto the rooftop.

"You're welcome," Elfraine replied to his retreating back. She didn't know whether to be surprised or exasperated as she went over to close the balcony door before she left for the BPRD herself. She decided she was more surprised at his unexpected graciousness but wondered if the elf would have bothered to thank her if he'd known she had an ulterior motive for inviting him back to become better acquainted with the dragons.

Once she found the map she was looking for, she'd be able to set out on the journey she'd been preparing for these last two hundred and twenty-odd years, and from which she fully expected she wouldn't return. The only thing holding her back now, apart from the lack of the map, was the fate of the dragons and the uncertainty as to how they'd fare after she was gone. They were still only very young and it worried her to think of them being on their own in the world. Though there were two people she could entrust them to if she had to, they really needed to be with others of their kind, beings who were steeped in magic and who could care for them properly. If the prince proved a reliable enough protector she could leave with a clear conscience and an easy heart, and so she was more than willing to give him the opportunity to prove himself worthy of the task, albeit he didn't know he was being tested and judged. She only hoped he'd prove himself up to the job because her conscience would grieve her sorely if he didn't.


	14. Chapter 13

__Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work.__

**Chapter 13**

Elfraine found she had a welcoming committee of only one when she arrived at the BPRD. "Good morning, John," she said to Agent Myers, who was waiting for her in the front foyer.

"Ah, good morning, Elfraine," he replied in something of an uncertain tone. "Um, you've recovered ok have you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh yes. I'm quite recovered, thank you," she replied. "It doesn't take long at all to get over the effects of any injuries or fatalities. I am as I always was, and there's no lasting damage. I take it I have something of an explanation to give now."

"Er... yes," John confirmed. "Director Manning arrived back late last night and I've told him what happened here. He wants to see you now. He has some, um, questions for you."

"I'm sure he does," murmured Elfraine. From John's tone, it sounded more like an interrogation was on the cards, however she wasn't too concerned. She was fairly certain of her ability to manage the Director and said to Myers, with a smile, "Well, shall we go and give him some answers then?"

When they got to the Director's office they found quite a crowd in the room. As well as Manning, there was Hellboy and Liz, Abe and Nuala, and Dr Kraus. They'd pulled up some chairs and were passing the time with small talk but as soon as Elfraine walked in they fell silent and all turned to look at her. Nuada was standing by the far wall, apart from everyone else as usual, and only gave her a brief glance before turning back to examine some books on a shelf.

"Right! First things first," said Manning as he took control of the meeting. He leaned back in his own chair but didn't invite Elfraine to take a seat. "Miss Somerled, I believe you have some explaining to do!" he said, as he pinned her with a hard stare and awaited her response.

Elfraine gave him a disdainful look and replied coolly, "I have nothing whatsoever to explain to _anyone_, Director Manning. If, however, you have some questions you'd care to ask me _politely_, I'll endeavour to answer them... if I feel so inclined." She used the tone and voice with which she'd kept a sometimes ruthless peace and harmony in the courts of both Elizabeth and James, where she'd been a lady-in-waiting, first to Elizabeth and then to James' wife, Anne, and it took the wind right out of Manning's sails now.

"Oh, uh, right, right then. I, um, I-I understand you're very old," he spluttered, as he started forward in his chair.

Elfraine merely raised an amused brow at that and drawled, "Really, Director Manning! You put it so... bluntly. I can't imagine you have much success with the ladies, sir. Or perhaps it's the gentlemen you prefer, hmmm?" She gave him a wicked look, and Manning's started to turn red before everyone's eyes.

Hellboy sniggered at their exchange, earning a dark look from the Director and a jab in the ribs from Liz.

"I - I mean, you were born a long time ago!" said Manning, quickly correcting himself. He cringed as he realised that sounded just as bad. "You know what I mean," he finished miserably.

"As it happens I do, Director," replied Elfraine, somewhat amused at the fluster he'd gotten himself into. "I was born in 1580 so that makes me four hundred and thirty two years old," she explained charitably as she took pity on him.

"You don't look _that_ old!" exclaimed Manning unthinkingly, as he peered closely at her.

"I can't make up my mind whether there's hope for you after all, Director, or no hope whatsoever," she murmured distractedly as she looked askance at Kraus, who had stood up by now and was examining her with an unnerving interest. She was beginning to feel like a bug under a glass. Apart from Nuada, they were all looking at her with what could only be described as morbid curiosity.

"I vould say you vere only... ah, quite young!" said Kraus diplomatically as he stopped at Elfraine's side and addressed her.

She looked up at that and gave him a charming smile before saying, "You, on the other hand, obviously have a way with the ladies, Doktor. I was not quite thirty five when I became immortal... in 1615."

"How did zat happen, Fräulein?" asked Kraus, preening a little under Elfraine's warm approval.

"After an encounter with a dragon," she started to explain.

"A dragon!" exclaimed Nuala, interrupting her. "How can that be? They died out nearly two thousand years ago!"

"Apparently they didn't _all_ die out," remarked Elfraine dryly.

"How did der dragon make you immortal?" asked Kraus.

At the doctor's question Nuada turned back to the room and stared at Elfraine intently, paying close attention what she said; this was one of the things he wanted to find out. However, he was disappointed with her reply.

"I have no idea, Doktor," replied Elfraine. "I never asked to be made immortal and I didn't even know I _was_ immortal until sometime afterwards. There were no flashes of lightening and no claps of thunder, as it were," she prevaricated. Strictly speaking, it was the truth but there was a lot she _didn't_ say.

"So if you didn't ask for immortality and nothing apparently happened, how do you know it was the dragon that made you immortal, Miss Somerled?" asked Abe with incisive logic.

"A process of elimination, Agent Sapien," answered Elfraine, with a wry look. "Although I _didn't_ ask for immortality, I _did_ actually get what I asked for, though it wasn't what I meant," she added cryptically, and with a hint of something that might have been sadness.

"Would you care to explain that, Miss Somerled?" demanded Nuada as he gave her a narrow look.

"No!" she replied shortly, much to his annoyance.

"How does zis immortality verk?" asked Kraus, as he turned his mind to more practical matters.

"I have no idea of the mechanics, Doktor," Elfraine replied. "All I know is that if I get hurt or sustain a fatal injury, the dragon magic takes over and suddenly I'm whole and unharmed."

"What sort of injuries and fatalities can you withstand, Miss Somerled?" enquired Abe.

"Oh, the lot I imagine... if past experience is anything to go by," Elfraine answered. "Let me see. I've been stabbed, impaled, bayoneted, shot, poisoned, suffocated, drowned, and crushed... defenestrated too, would you believe!" she added dryly.

"Uh, that's quite a list," said Manning.

He was about to say more but Elfraine continued speaking. "I've lost arms, I've lost legs, and I've lost eyes... amongst other things. I've been sliced cleanly in half... and not so cleanly in half, and I've been blown to pieces by cannon fire." She frowned as she continued her litany of death. "I've been hung, and I've been guillotined - both before crowds baying for blood."

"W-well, it certainly is, um, a _very_ long list" stammered Manning.

Elfraine carried on as if he hadn't spoken. "I've known the icy numbness of freezing to death, and the sharp, almost exquisite agony of being burned alive. I've felt my entrails twist unbearably, trying to consume themselves as I've starved to death, and most recently I've had the... _interesting_ experience of feeling my flesh being torn from my bones and seeing it disappear down the gullet of the creature that was eating me alive at the time."

She stared at Nuada as she said that last part and he found himself, to his surprise, looking away uncomfortably.

"None of the ways I've died have been particularly _easy_ or _good_ ways to go," she said sardonically. "I know pain and death quite intimately now and I don't imagine there's too much left to learn about either of them, though I always stand to be corrected on that of course."

There was a moment of almost stunned silence before Hellboy observed, somewhat callously, "Now _that's_ a lot of trouble to get into!" He yelped in pain as Liz gave him a swift kick in the shins.

Elfraine seemed taken aback by his comment for a moment, and then she gave a short laugh as she agreed with the demon. "Yes, it is, isn't it! I seem to have an attraction for trouble. Even when I'm not looking for it, I have a habit of finding it."

"And there's nothing else you can tell us about your unique abilities, Miss Somerled?" asked Abe, as he thought how the dark, crushing weight he'd felt in her when they first met was starting to make a bit more sense now.

"No, nothing else," she confirmed.

Manning gave Elfraine a considering look as he leaned back in his chair once again and said, "Miss Somerled, we might have another opening for you at the BPRD... apart from the Archives' work."

"What do you mean, Director Manning?" she asked.

"You might make a good Enhanced Talents agent," he explained. "You could be very useful in the field."

"As reusable cannon fodder, no doubt," murmured Elfraine laconically. "You're not the first to see my... _potential _there, sir," she added with a slight sneer.

Manning had the grace to look embarrassed at that; it was pretty much what he'd been thinking. "No, no," he rushed to assure her, though he didn't sound very convincing even to himself. "We're a bit short-staffed here after the last couple of days, and have a few openings available now."

Elfraine looked at him with some skepticism. "What exactly would be involved, Director?" she asked.

"Um, we'd assess your abilities, you'd undergo some induction training, and then we'd place you on a team – most likely Red's here. You'd be his direct report," replied Manning. "We'd also sign you up for a minimum of two years, and the standard conditions and rates of pay would apply."

Elfraine was silent for a moment as she considered how she could turn his offer to her advantage; there were some obvious possibilities in respect of her own quest. First though, the terms he'd just set out would have to go.

"No, that will not do at all, Director," she said firmly. "Those conditions are not acceptable."

"But they're the standard terms we offer to all our agents," Manning explained.

"And they are not acceptable to _me_," Elfraine reiterated. "If you wish to employ my services in the field you'll need to agree to _my_ terms. Testing is completely out of the question - you'll just have to go with what you already know about me. And after all that I've done over the last four hundred-odd years, I seriously doubt there's a need for any sort of _training_. As regards our red friend here," she added, with a glance at Hellboy, "I'm more than willing to go along with something if I think it's a good idea but be quite clear – I take orders from no one, and no one is in charge of me. Chances are that I'll still be here long after you've all crumbled and turned to dust, and that being the case, I have no earthly reason to follow any inclination other than my own."

"Yeah?" interrupted the demon tersely. "If you're on _my_ team, you'll take _my_ orders!"

"Then we do not have a deal," Elfraine informed the Director.

Manning gave a sigh of exasperation. The Bureau had taken a heavy hit from the attack of two days ago, and it would be quite some time before their numbers were back up to full strength. In the meantime, he couldn't afford to let someone as potentially useful as Miss Somerled slip through his fingers because both Hellboy and Miss Somerled were being difficult about semantics. Unfortunately, there really wasn't any other team to place her on at the moment.

"Ah, maybe we could call you a consultant, or something," he said, as desperation inspired him.

"That's acceptable to me," Elfraine assented graciously.

"But I'm still in charge," muttered Hellboy, earning himself another jab from Liz.

"Of everyone except the consultant," murmured Elfraine.

Hellboy was silenced by a ferocious scowl from Liz and a furiously whispered reminder that the sooner things were sorted out, the sooner they could all go home. He reluctantly decided to let it slide for the moment, but not without a ferocious scowl of his own as he noticed the contemptuous smirk Nuada gave him at his unwilling acquiescence.

When no further argument was forthcoming from the demon, Elfraine continued with her counter terms. "I'll only agree to stay until this current situation is resolved - I certainly won't be staying here for two years! And as to the fee for my services, you may keep your money, Director."

Manning gave her a look of surprise. "You mean you'll work for free?" he asked hopefully.

Elfraine laughed at that. "Most certainly not, sir! You should know nothing is ever free. I mean, we can haggle over the price later... when I've decided what it is I want!"

"Uh, I don't know about that," said Manning hesitantly. "It's not exactly protocol!"

"I'm sure it won't be anything too onerous," she assured him, as she thought of the map she was searching for. "And as a sign of good faith, you may consider the additional services I've performed over the last few days to be given pro bono. After all, there's nothing in the Archives' contract about battling giant hounds and mysterious shadows, and I'd be quite within my rights to demand a higher rate of pay for that alone."

"Well, um, I guess we have a deal, Miss Somerled," said Manning reluctantly.

"Then let us shake on it, sir," Elfraine suggested as she held out her hand and gave the Director one of her winning smiles.

Manning eyed her hand with some apprehension before finally taking it. He couldn't help feeling he was about to make a deal with the Devil, albeit a very beautiful-looking Devil with a very lovely smile, and he sincerely hoped nothing would come back to bite him.

But it was done now, and he turned quickly to practicalities as he determined the next steps that needed to be taken. Agent Myers had told him about the Celtic stone heads. They had to find out more about them and figure out how they'd gotten into the BPRD. As well, there was the agent who'd tried to kill the princess. He was safely locked in the cells in the basement, and someone needed to interrogate him. And Manning himself had to do something about the serious lack of agents in the Bureau. Some of the other field teams were due to arrive back over the next twenty four hours but they were still down by the equivalent of over three teams and given what they were facing, the shortfall would have to be made up somehow.

Manning started delegating the tasks to be done. "Dr Kraus, you look into the stone heads and see what you can find out about them. Red, you and the prince can interrogate the agent in the cells. Abe, you and Agent Myers go with them to make sure they don't kill him before we find out anything useful. I'll see what I can do about staffing levels. The FBI has a cohort of agents undergoing special training at the moment and I'll find out when they'll be ready to take on BPRD duties. In the meantime though, I'll contact our European branch and see if some of their agents can come over here to help out until we get our numbers back up."

He paused for a moment as he did a quick check to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, and then he remembered his newest agent... or rather 'consultant'. "Miss Somerled, you can continue with the Archives' work for the moment. Perhaps the princess can help you," he suggested, finally satisfied that everything had been taken care of for now.

"Right everyone! Let's get on with it then!" he said as he dismissed the team and reached for the phone to make a call to the European branch.

As the others left the room, Nuada walked up to Elfraine and placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her for a moment. Leaning down, he murmured in a tone faintly laced with hard-edged amusement, "And you called _me_ a quarrelsome creature earlier this morning. _I_ could take lessons from _you!_" He then let her go and, with a mocking bow and sweep of his hand, gestured for her to leave the room first as he commanded, "After you, milady."

Elfraine gave him a narrow look, not quite liking his tone but unable to take exception to it. Playing his game, she dropped a perfunctory curtsey that was only just on the right side of polite and said in a slightly bored tone, "You're too kind, Your Highness," before leaving the room.

She started in annoyance at the mocking laughter that followed her out the door before walking over to Nuala, who was waiting in the corridor for her.

"Are you alright, Miss Somerled?" asked the princess as she noticed the frown on Elfraine's face.

"Of course, Ma'am," said Elfraine as she smoothed her features into a polite mask, and took the arm the princess so graciously offered her.

Nuada stepped into the hallway and watched the two women as they walked down the corridor with their arms linked and their heads bent in conversation; his sister would have to be careful with that one. However, he obviously had very little sway over Nuala and so she was very much on her own in her dealings with the human, he thought with a flicker of vindictive satisfaction.

Miss Somerled was by far the most managing woman he'd ever met, and nothing was as straightforward with her as it seemed. He'd been surprised by what he'd learned about her that morning and by her unexpected invitation back into her home, but he was still suspicious and he wondered just what other secrets she might be hiding. He had to admit though, he'd enjoyed watching her browbeat Manning into submission, and prick the vanity of the demon yet again.

With one final look at the women, he turned and headed for the cells in the basement. At least the morning's work held the promise of being more... _interesting_ for a change.

**... ... ...**

Nuada might not have been so happy to leave his sister to her fate with Miss Somerled if he knew what Nuala was asking Elfraine as they made their way to the Archives' room.

"Miss Somerled," began the princess as they turned down another passageway at the end of the hall. "I have a favour to ask, if you'd be so kind as to consider my request."

"Of course, Your Highness," replied Elfraine. "What do you wish?"

"I'd like to you to continue to instruct me in the art of swordplay... with the Varangian sword to be exact," said Nuala.

Elfraine gave her a quick look of surprise; she thought it a strange request coming from someone who was prepared to fade away rather than stand up to her enemies, and wondered why the princess was now interested in learning to defend herself. However she didn't voice her thoughts but merely asked, "Are you sure you'd like _me_ to teach you? Wouldn't Agent Sapien or your brother be a better choice?"

Nuala gave a wry grimace as she replied, "I don't think either of them would agree to that at all. And besides, neither of them would be half as patient a teacher as you were in the armoury the other night."

Elfraine gave a short laugh of agreement. "True!" she remarked. "It's not the sort of thing men have _any_ patience for, is it! They're all very well with each other, but with women their forbearance seems to run out very quickly... largely, I suspect, because they dislike us getting involved in what they consider to be _man's_ business!"

"That's exactly it!" Nuala concurred. "You understand my problem then?" she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"Perfectly, Ma'am," replied Elfraine. "I'll happily teach you as much as I know. I'm not exactly dressed for it today though," she said as she looked down at her dress ruefully. "Shall we make a start on it in the lunch hour, say tomorrow?"

"That would be wonderful, Miss Somerled," replied Nuala.

"I'll make sure I'm more appropriately attired," Elfraine remarked. "You might want to do the same, Ma'am," she added with a dubious look at Nuala's flowing dress. "If you try fighting in that you'll only trip over your skirts and end up flat on your backside!"

"That would never do!" said Nuala, as she tried, unsuccessfully, to think of something more suitable from her wardrobe. Never mind, she thought. She could borrow a top and pants from Abe, though she'd have to wait until he'd left their rooms for the day.

"No, it certainly wouldn't," Elfraine confirmed. "I've only ever fought in skirts twice, and it ended badly both times because I tripped myself up on the blasted things!"

A mischievous thought suddenly occurred to her and she looked up at Nuala with a twinkle in her eye, as she asked dryly, "Do you think our demon friend ever trips up on his coat? I mean, he _does_ cut a fine figure in it, but its length comes as perilously close to a dress as anything _I've_ ever seen on a man who wasn't actually trying for a more feminine look."

Nuala burst out laughing at that and said with difficulty, as she tried to recover her composure, "Oh, Miss Somerled! I wouldn't ever say that to his face. I think he might get a bit upset with you!"

"Heaven forfend!" exclaimed Elfraine as she rolled her eyes at the thought. "I fear I may have already upset him enough as it is today."

"Along with one or two others," murmured Nuala naughtily.

Elfraine merely grinned at that and said, "It _has_ been a good day so far, hasn't it!"

They'd reached the Archives' room by now, and Nuala stopped and turned to Elfraine to say, more seriously, "Miss Somerled, thank you for agreeing to my request."

"You're welcome, Ma'am," replied Elfraine as they entered the room and turned their attention to the day's work that awaited them.


	15. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 14**

As it turned out, Nuada didn't have as interesting a morning as he'd hoped for. The agent who'd tried to kill his sister could not be made to talk by any of the means _Abraham_ and Agent Myers were willing to sanction, and Nuada found himself in the unusual position of being in agreement with the red demon. Anung Un Rama had argued, unsuccessfully, that stronger measures were required but the only concession he could get out of the ichthyo sapien was an undertaking to refer the matter back to Director Manning for a ruling. The interrogation had therefore been put on hold until the Director decided how far they could go in their attempts to get information out of the traitor, and Nuada shared the demon's concern that the Director wouldn't go far enough.

Having nothing new to follow up, Nuada decided to spend the afternoon in the training room. He'd been there for several hours and was practicing some more advanced hand-to-hand combat drills when the demon walked in.

Hellboy stopped and frowned when he saw the prince. He knew the elf usually practiced in the morning, and he'd expected the room to be free now. He'd snuck down here for a bit of peace and quiet; the twins had been pretty demanding over the last few hours and Liz, for some reason, had said _he_ wasn't helping things with his two cents' worth! She didn't know what she was talking about, and he couldn't understand why she didn't take his advice more often. With the kids' squabbling and Liz's nagging, and the disappointing outcome of the morning's interrogation, he needed a break from all the hassles. He'd come to the training room to get away from it all for a while only to find another aggravation in the form of the Elven prince.

Nuada would have been quite gratified had he known Hellboy's thoughts. As it was, he merely returned the demon's frown and carried on with his own training.

There was no way Hellboy was going to back away and leave the room to the prince so he stripped off his coat and shirt, and started his own practice. His focus didn't last long though; the elf made too tempting a target, and Hellboy started to bait him.

"Those fancy moves are a waste of time, Prince," he sneered as Nuada executed a low sweep then launched into a tornado kick, and finished with an aerial twist. "They sure look _pretty_ though. You'd make a good _ballerina,_" he taunted sarcastically.

Nuada stopped and gave him a steely look. "You might do better against your opponents if you weren't such an inept, clumsy oaf," he mocked. "Your inability to think and move quickly on your feet makes you an easy target."

"An easy target who kicked your ass four years ago and could kick it again anytime I want to," jeered Hellboy.

The demon's words enraged Nuada. "The only reason you prevailed then was because my _sister_ intervened to save your skin. You seem to make a habit of hiding behind women's skirts... perhaps because you can't fight your own battles!" he snarled.

"Yeah, you tell yourself that _Prince_ if it makes you feel better. I could wipe the floor with you!" retorted Hellboy, wondering when the elf was ever going to take the bait.

In the next breath Nuada did just that as he bit out a challenge. "Care to be proven wrong, Demon? Or are your words only empty wind?"

Hellboy rubbed his right hand and grinned. It was just what he'd been waiting for. "If you want an ass-kicking, I'll be happy to give you one. What say we add some weapons, just to keep it interesting!"

Nuada gave him a deadly look and walked over to the side of the room where he'd put his sword and spear. He picked up the sword and, spinning round quickly, threw it at the demon, catching him by surprise.

It flew end-over-end straight at Hellboy's chest, and he had to duck to the side to avoid being skewered with it. He reached out his hand to stop it but fumbled the catch slightly, though he made a quick enough recovery.

Nuada's lips curled in contempt as he picked up his spear and quickly turned to block what was supposed to be a surprise attack by Hellboy.

The demon scowled; he'd been counting on getting in the first blow. And then the fight was on.

As they battled furiously around the room, Hellboy started to goad Nuada again, hoping to distract him and throw him off balance. "Just tell me when you wanna give up, Prince."

"I'll stop when I've beaten you, which shouldn't take long. Your servility to Manning has weakened you," taunted Nuada in return.

"_I'm _not his servant!" spat out Hellboy. "Don't you know? _You're_ his latest pet!"

"Don't delude yourself," replied Nuada with a dark scowl. Though the demon didn't know all the particulars, his words were uncomfortably close to the truth. Until he could discover the secret of the rune stone and break its power, Nuada was bound to follow Manning's orders and the knowledge of that ate away at him like a canker. "_You're_ the one who has such great fondness for selfish, hollow humans that you leap to do their bidding like an obedient dog!" he sneered.

"I'm sick 'n tired of you whining about humans," complained Hellboy, becoming distracted himself. "You lump them all together and that's just stupid. Liz is human. My kids are half-human. Abe's still part human!" He quickly realised that maybe Abe wasn't such a good example to use; the prince was still touchy about him being an item with his sister.

He rushed on with a more suitable example of human virtue. "And Professor Bruttenholm took me in when I was a kid. He was a father to me, and he always stood by me no matter what," explained Hellboy, his respect for the professor evident in his voice.

Nuada couldn't help but think, with some rancour, that not all fathers stood by their sons. Indeed, some were prepared to sacrifice every child they had on an altar of hollow ideals. He redoubled his attack on the demon and drove him back several dozen feet before Hellboy recovered and stood his ground.

"Anyway," said the demon, in a moment of rare philosophic insight as he forced Nuada back, "most humans might not be worth spitting on, but there's always some who make it worthwhile putting up with the rest." And then the moment was gone as he lost the ground he'd just gained and realised he'd better focus on the fight or he'd be the one getting the ass-kicking.

"I'm certain there aren't _any_ who make it worthwhile _putting up _with the rest," Nuada sneered, as their weapons crossed and locked.

It quickly became a stalemate with each combatant determined to force the other to their knees, and neither giving an inch.

Suddenly there was a loud crackling sound followed by Liz's voice bursting out over the intercom, startling both the demon and the elf.

"Red, I know you're hiding your miserable ass somewhere! You'd better haul it back here _now_ or I'll kick it into next century! It's tea time and I need a hand with the kids!" she said furiously. From the noisy screeching in the background, it sounded as if someone was being murdered.

"Aw crap!" muttered Hellboy, looking worried. He knew he was in trouble now.

"So, Miss Sherman saves your sorry hide yet again!" Nuada sneered.

"You mean she saves yours!" retorted Hellboy with a frown.

"I'm more than happy to carry on... if you dare!" challenged Nuada.

Hellboy knew when he was beaten. Liz really would flame him if he didn't go back and lend a hand. He gave way to Nuada and took a few steps back then shot the prince a look of annoyance as he threw the elf's sword back to him. "You'd better be ready for an ass-kicking next time, Prince. I went easy on you today!" he said tersely.

Nuada caught the sword and smirked at him as he said, "Foolish demon! Even now you continue to delude yourself."

Hellboy hesitated, reluctant to retreat.

"Run along, Demon," prompted Nuada mockingly. "You've just been called to heel!"

The intercom suddenly crackled again, and the prince had the satisfaction of seeing Anung Un Rama jump.

A relaxed grin spread over Hellboy's face though as he realised it was only the twins. They both started talking to him at once.

"Hello! Daddy! Daddy!" one called out loudly, while the other asked at the same time and just as loudly, "Daddy, where are you?" A bit of squabbling ensued as they argued over who was going to press the buttons. Aithne was apparently taking Daman's turn and he wasn't too happy about it.

"They're real little firecrackers," said Hellboy with a fond grin that was full of fatherly pride. "I better get back and save the planet before World War Three breaks out over who gets to press a button! It could get messy!" He quickly threw on his shirt and coat and left, calling out with a casual wave as he went, "Later, Prince."

Nuada watched the demon with a slight frown as Hellboy walked out of the room. He considered getting in a few more hours' training; after all, it wasn't as if he had anything else he especially needed to do. However it was getting late in the day and for once the idea didn't particularly appeal to him. He sheathed his weapons and picked up his shirt then headed back to his own quiet, orderly rooms.

It occurred to him as he strode along the cold, empty hallways that he should take up Miss Somerled on her invitation to go and visit the dragons later that evening.

**... ... ...**

It was some hours later when Nuada made his way to Elfraine's apartment. Swiftly ascending the fire escape, he reached the roof of the building and then her balcony. He paused at the glass doors leading into the apartment and observed the scene inside for a few minutes. He'd been too absorbed by his discovery of the dragons that morning to pay any attention whatsoever to the woman's lair, and so he made sure he took a good look at it now. Against the far wall was a hearth with a warm and inviting-looking fire burning in the grate. The orange glow of the flickering flames cast soft shadows around the dimly lit room, throwing some parts into muted relief and cloaking others in charcoal-grey darkness.

Numerous maps of all the continents of the world covered the wall at one end of the living area. Antique sepia charts drawn by ancient cartographers showed lands and seas that had long-since been dissected by different lines as proud, hollow humans sought incessantly to expand their dominion over the lot, and carved up the world according to their voracious desires. Other maps had more colour and were obviously fairly modern though they too, in their turn, would one day depict vanished kingdoms. The map-covered wall only went half-way along the room then stopped as it opened up onto the kitchen area.

At the other end of the room was a dark, wooden bookcase crammed full of mostly old-looking, leather-bound books, and next to the bookcase were some shelves on which there appeared to be a number of smaller items. Nuada couldn't quite make them out though; the shadows clung jealously to the ledges in defiance of his eyes, and the drapes hanging at the side of the door partially obscured his view.

In one corner of the room was a music stand with a pile of what looked like sheet music neatly stacked to one side. On the other side of the stand Nuada recognised the flute from that morning along with an old violin, and a guitar which had seen better days. Tucked away in the opposite corner, beside the map-covered wall, was a desk with a computer and several large, rolled up pieces of paper on it. Nuada turned his head and could just see at the side of the balcony door, a telescope clamped onto a tripod. He craned his head further and made out a sword resting against the door frame, ready for use if necessary.

The woman herself was sitting demurely on the same couch he'd leaned against that morning as he'd talked with the dragons. She had her feet curled up under her, and was wearing a long, emerald green nightdress that suited her colouring to perfection. The couch was positioned to one side of the hearth, and he supposed she made a pretty picture with the soft shadows caressing her face and form as she sewed by the light of the fire. Every now and then the flames would cast their glow onto her hair and illuminate the reddish-gold highlights in it. Meanwhile the dragons sat in front of the fire, snaking their tails about hypnotically and staring into the flames.

He noticed, with surprise, the body of a large ginger cat stretched out in the shadow of one of the dragons. It struck a jarring note in the peaceful domesticity of the charming tableau before him. He looked more closely and saw that the cat's ears were badly mutilated and part of its tail was missing; it appeared the dragons had been playing with their food. The scene was obviously not one of _entirely_ domestic tranquillity, Nuada thought to himself with something of a sneer.

He started in surprise as the cat suddenly came to life and leapt up, pouncing on the tail of the nearest dragon. The dragon merely looked around and stared at the cat with its glittering green eyes then flicked its tail and sent the tattered feline scampering away to the black depths of a shadow on the far side of the room.

Nuada realised he must have made some noise or slight movement when the cat surprised him. The dragons both swung their heads round and stared intently at the balcony for a moment then headed over towards it. Their own movement attracted the attention of the woman, and she put aside her sewing to follow them over.

Elfraine wondered what had disturbed the dragons. It was too early for them to be going hunting, and she picked up the sword before she opened the door to check the terrace. The dragons pushed past her and darted out. She quickly followed them onto the balcony, and ran straight into the Elven prince, who was standing there, cloaked in the shadows of the cold night air. Elfraine let out a screech and jumped in surprise, and Nuada reflexively grabbed her arms to steady her. She recovered her balance, and he let go of her as he reached over and took the sword from her hand.

"Your Highness," she said as she tilted her head back to look up at him. "This is... unexpected! Would you like to come in?"

Nuada merely inclined his own head in answer and entered the apartment with the dragons following him closely. He paused to return the sword to its resting place.

Elfraine walked back in after them and shut the door. "Please, take a seat," she said.

Nuada took off his thick leather gloves and his weapons, and stowed them beside the couch. As he straightened up, he saw with some surprise that she'd been mending his shirt, the one she'd inveigled off him the day before and which he'd thought damaged beyond repair after its encounter with the halberd. He picked it up and saw that she'd painstakingly stitched and darned the jagged edges of the holes back together, and had made as good a job of repairing it as was possible.

Elfraine looked at the shirt in his hands and said, somewhat apologetically, "I'm afraid it'll never be suitable to wear at court again but you should be able to get _some_ further use out of it." She held out her hand for it, and answered his questioning look. "I haven't finished mending it yet but there's not too much more left to do."

Nuada handed it back to her. "It surprises me to see you engaged in such a domestic task," he remarked offhandedly as he looked down at the dragons beside him.

"Oh, I could wield a needle long before I ever picked up a sword," Elfraine said, her smile friendly enough. "I was one of the best needlewomen at court, if I say so myself! And I was considered by _two_ queens and many of the other ladies-in-waiting to be exceptionally _efficient_ and _competent_!" she added. There was an edge to her voice now as she recalled his description of some of her other abilities the previous day.

Nuada recognised the allusion immediately. "Perhaps I was a bit hasty in my assessment of your fighting skills yesterday," he conceded, much to Elfraine's surprise. "I was, after all, judging you by Elven standards. It would have been fairer of me to judge you by human standards. You wouldn't have been found so wanting then," he went on to elaborate, with an air of casual hauteur.

Elfraine's surprise vanished; he wasn't being as magnanimous as she'd first thought. "A back-handed compliment if ever I heard one," she muttered darkly as she suppressed the urge to prick him with her needle.

Nuada ignored that and asked instead, as he ran his eyes appraisingly up and down the length of her, "Why did you ever pick up a sword anyway? I would have thought a woman of your obvious attractions would have no trouble finding a suitable protector."

"Another back-handed compliment, Your Highness?" asked Elfraine tightly. She was more strongly tempted than ever to give him a good jab with her needle.

"It was simply an observation," he replied, wondering what on earth had upset her.

"Hmmm, you've certainly changed your tune since yesterday," she muttered as she realised he had, in typical male fashion, chosen his words without properly considering the shades of meaning that could attach to them. She decided not to pursue the matter further, and instead answered his question.

"Immortality's all very well and good but it's utterly useless if you have to spend all eternity running away from everyone and everything because you can't fight back. Shortly after my meeting with the dragon I found myself in very different circumstances to those I'd been accustomed to, and I spent the first couple of months of my immortality being frightened of even my own bloody shadow! So I learned how to fight and now I don't run," Elfraine explained in a hard voice. "And as for looking to some _man_ to protect me, I hardly think so! I find _myself_ to be a much more reliable prospect!" she added contemptuously.

Nuada felt a sudden desire to know more about what had happened to her; he couldn't imagine her being scared of anything, and her unexpected admission of vulnerability intrigued him. However he tamped down his inexplicable interest, and only observed mockingly "I take it you've been disappointed in love then, Miss Somerled."

Elfraine looked away. "How perceptive of you," she said flatly.

"And disappointment cured you of any wish to ever rely on a man again," he continued on in the same mocking tone.

"No," replied Elfraine shortly, swinging her gaze back to him. "Three husbands cured me of any wish to ever rely on a man again!"

Nuada looked surprised at that. "_Three_ husbands?" he asked with something of a sneer. He could well imagine her running through three men. He told himself he was only surprised it wasn't more.

Elfraine took exception to his tone. "Yes, three!" she snapped. "But enough of them! My invitation to you was to talk with the dragons, not waste my time in idle chitchat."

Nuada became aloof and distant at her words, and said coldly, "If you wish me to leave, Miss Somerled, you have only to ask."

The minute the words were out of her mouth Elfraine realised she'd been unforgivably rude to an invited guest, no matter that he'd goaded her. She gave Nuada an apologetic look as she said, with the utmost respect and civility, and more than a grain of truth, "Please forgive me Your Highness. That was not well done of me. I can only say in my defence that any mention of my husbands invariably puts me in a sour mood. Please, take a seat. And if there's anything I can get for you, you need only ask," she added graciously.

Nuada inclined his head stiffly in acceptance of her apology and took a seat in the chair opposite the couch. The dragons, who'd been watching in their usual inscrutable fashion, sat down beside him and listened as he started to talk to them in his own language.

Elfraine sat back down on the couch and continued with her mending. She noted as she worked that Nuada was doing most of the talking and she had no idea what the conversation was about. It seemed to be wandering all over the place going by the occasional comment made by one or other of the dragons.

Eventually, at a pause in the conversation, she asked casually as she sewed, "What do you talk about?"

Nuada glanced up at her and decided there was no harm in letting her know. "I'm telling them the stories of my people... the histories and the myths," he told her.

Elfraine looked up in surprise and raised a brow in question.

Nuada continued speaking. "Dragons are the most ancient creatures the earth has known and they live many, many times longer than anything else, even elves. As you quite correctly pointed out yesterday, they eventually come to know all that's ever happened and as well, they never forget anything." He paused, lost in thought for a moment, before continuing on in a bitter tone. "I'd like to entrust the stories of my people to these two and ensure that our histories live on in some way... no matter what happens."

Elfraine sensed a great sadness behind his words, and she knew from her talk with Nuala in the armoury the other night that he was thinking about what his people were facing. She realised too, with some surprise that she felt something approaching respect for him for what he was doing by telling the dragons his people's stories; it was a clever contingency plan and she was rather impressed with it. "Giving your people's history into their keeping is a good idea," was all she said though.

Nuada gave her a sharp look. He thought he might have heard quiet understanding in her voice and he didn't like it one bit; the last thing he wanted was pity, especially pity from a human. He stood up quickly and started to prowl around the room.

The large, rolled up pieces of paper on the table with the computer attracted his attention first, and he walked over and picked one up, unfurling it. He saw with surprise that it was a detailed nautical chart of a large tract of one of the world's oceans. The woman was fond of maps he thought to himself as he looked up at the wall in front of him; she certainly had enough of the things.

He roamed restlessly around the room, stopping every now and then to look at things as they caught his eye. Finally he arrived at the shelving by the bookcase and saw it was full of navigational instruments on the lower shelves, and what appeared to be spyglasses of a variety of shapes and sizes on the upper. The woman also seemed to have a strong interest in all things nautical he thought to himself as he glanced back across the room at the charts sitting on the table.

He casually picked up one of the spyglasses and on looking through it, was surprised to discover that is was in fact a kaleidoscope. As he watched, glittering jewel-like fragments of rainbow-coloured glass swirled around to form patterns of intricate beauty that lasted for only a second before dissolving into the next ephemeral shape. He placed the kaleidoscope back on the shelf with the others, and turned his attention to the sea-faring instruments on the lower shelves.

There were all sorts of fascinating devices: sextants, barometers, compasses, a ballastella, a mariner's bow, and an octant to name but a few. He flinched as his fingers passed lightly over the soft iron of a Flinders bar, and then he spied a planisphere sitting next to an ancient-looking astrolabe at the far end of one of the shelves. He picked it up with interest; it was a beautifully crafted piece of equipment with a wonderfully-detailed star chart sitting behind the overlay.

Placing it back on the shelf, Nuada happened to glance over at Miss Somerled. She'd stopped her sewing and was watching him, or more precisely watching the navigational instruments, with a strange look on her face. He got the impression she was anxious as he took in the tight cast of her mouth and her whitened knuckles. She appeared to have something of a death grip on his shirt, and he wondered if it was perhaps because she didn't like him touching these particular things. With a sly look in her direction, he tested the thought as he picked up an old brass sextant and turned it over in his hands, examining it closely. He noticed, through the fall of his hair, that she stiffened as he handled the instrument and visibly relaxed when he replaced it on the shelf. Looking back at the pieces of equipment, he wondered what was so special about them.

As he pondered the question, he felt a sudden weight on his foot and looked down to see the tattered ginger cat he'd assumed was dragon food trying to pick a fight with his boot, biting it and clawing at it with its front paws and kicking furiously at it with its hind legs. He shook his foot and the cat stopped to stare at him through eyes that quickly narrowed to mean-looking slits of defiance before it resumed its attack with renewed vigour.

Elfraine noted the disdainful look Nuada was giving the impertinent creature and jumped to her feet. She rushed over to where he was standing, and bent down to scoop up the feisty ginger feline, scolding it as she did so. "Goblin! That's no way to treat a guest. Behave yourself!"

The cat gave a low yowl of anger and struggled to get out of her arms, keeping his yellow eyes firmly fixed on Nuada the whole time. But Elfraine held the cantankerous creature fast and tickled him behind his ears. Goblin quickly stopped struggling and soon started purring. She carried him over to a basket beside the fire and settled him down. The dragons sat staring at him as he yawned and stretched out, a picture of careless unconcern.

Elfraine turned back to Nuada and said ruefully, "I hope he didn't scratch your boot. He's got very sharp claws, as we all know to our misfortune." She glanced at the dragons as she said that and they chattered in agreement.

At Nuada's questioning look, she explained, with a smile, "The dragons and I might argue over our respective places in the hierarchy of the household but in truth we're all just servants to that crotchety, ball of ginger fluff over there, and he's a hard taskmaster who never stints on the scratches to keep us in line." She looked fondly at the cat before continuing. "He showed up here one night looking the worse for wear, and he's ruled the roost ever since. I haven't the heart - or the nerve - to try and turn him out."

"Why do you call him 'Goblin'?" asked Nuada.

"I don't know," replied Elfraine, with a shrug of her shoulders. "It seems to me he has the look of a goblin about him."

He couldn't disagree with that, Nuada thought as he eyed the cat with disfavour though it was perhaps more mean-looking and bad-tempered than any goblin he'd ever met.

"Do the dragons have names?" he asked, as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

There was an infinitesimal pause and then Elfraine answered him. "I'm sure they do but they don't share them with me." She kept her fingers crossed and fervently hoped he wouldn't ask her what she called them then. She was _not_ going to tell him that; he would most definitely not approve regardless that the dragons themselves were quite pleased with the names she'd settled on.

It seemed luck was on her side; Nuada's thoughts were not on that at all. He wondered instead if she knew the power of a dragon's true name. "Why ever would they keep their names from you?" he asked disingenuously.

"A dragon's true name is a very potent thing to possess and they're not in the habit of giving them out," she explained. "To do that would be to also give the holder of their name a great power over them. If these ones ever want to me to have such power, they'll give me their names and until that happens - _if_ it ever happens – I won't push the matter." Her eyes narrowed as she suddenly realised something. "But I assume you already knew all about the power of a dragon's true name," she added tersely.

"Of course I did," replied Nuada arrogantly. "I was merely interested to find out whether _you_ were aware of it." He felt a surge of triumph at the success of his strategy; there hadn't been many such moments in his dealings with the woman so far.

"Oh!" Elfraine's tone was peevish. She didn't like to think he'd tricked her into giving up information she might not have revealed otherwise. But at least Lady Luck was otherwise with her that night; the Elven prince hadn't made the connection that using a dragon's true name against it was why she'd inadvertently ended up immortal four hundred years ago. She could just imagine the scolding she'd get if he discovered that little fact.

Elfraine's luck continued to hold, while Nuada decided to press his own. He asked a question that had occurred to him on another matter the previous day. "Tell me," he said. "Why is it that sometimes you recover almost immediately from fatal injuries and yet at other times you don't?"

He had in mind the cabalus's attack of five nights ago. The creature had thought her well and truly dead when it left the alleyway and she hadn't immediately come back to life to disabuse it of that idea. Nuada compared that to her almost immediate recovery from the wounds inflicted by the hounds when they'd fought them yesterday, and also her rapid recovery from the injury she'd sustained from the halberd.

"Oh, that," replied Elfraine, relieved at the sudden change of topic. "It's no secret. The rate of recovery is about the only control I have over anything to do with how my immortality works," she explained, with a touch of acerbity. "I can just let myself be carried along by it all, in which case it does take some time to recover, or I can push through it all and rally almost straight away."

"I see," said Nuada, with a considering look. "Why did you decide to _let yourself be carried along by it all_ in the alleyway the other night?" he asked. He really shouldn't have reminded her of the incident.

"Two reasons," replied Elfraine tersely. "If I'd pushed through I'm sure your gluttonous friend would have just kept killing me and eating me for the rest of the night... and once was more than enough!" she added with a hard look at Nuada. "Also, there was the matter of a suitable punishment for the instigator of it all. I wanted some time to consider that!" she continued in a haughty, self-satisfied tone.

Nuada's eyes glittered with sparks of golden rage as he gave her a deadly look; Elfraine, in turn, really should have been paying more attention to his expression.

"I came to the conclusion that in your case revenge was a dish best served cold... or rather, warmish as it _was_ only a day later," she continued smugly, and not altogether wisely. She knew she shouldn't be crowing over him like this but she still harboured a great deal of resentment about the whole incident. Besides, he hadn't even apologised for it so he deserved every jibe she could think of. "Ah, the look on your face when you saw me the next morning," she said smugly, obviously getting great enjoyment out of the memory. "It'll make me laugh for, oh, all eternity I daresay," she gloated. Her jubilation didn't last long though. She jumped and let out a small yelp as Nuada suddenly appeared at her side; she hadn't even seen him move.

He had a feral expression on his face, and before she knew what he was about he had swiftly picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. "This might be a good time for that spanking I promised you yesterday, " he snarled.

As he headed for the couch Elfraine's nether regions started to tingle, and not in a nice way. She wriggled furiously and pounded his back with her fists, trying to get him to drop her, but it did her no good. He only held her more tightly.

Nuada sat on the couch and pulled her down onto his lap then tried to flip her over but she foiled him by throwing her arms around his neck and grabbing large fistfuls of his hair.

"Let go of my hair!" he roared.

His face was only inches from hers and she started as his voice hurt her ears. "No!" she cried frantically. "Let go of me first!"

He only lashed one arm more tightly around her, and started trying to remove her hands from his hair with his other hand.

She turned her head to the dragons and said urgently, "Do something!" but they merely sat there, staring at her with inscrutable expressions.

Meanwhile, Nuada was still trying to disengage her hands from his hair but she held on fast and all he was doing so far was giving himself a sore scalp.

Getting no help from the dragons, Elfraine turned somewhat desperately to the cat, which had lifted its head at all the commotion. "Goblin! Surely you'll help me!" she called out but he merely yawned and closed his eyes again.

"Traitors!" she screeched.

By now Nuada had managed to remove her hands from his hair, and he held both her wrists firmly in one hand. His other arm bit cruelly into her waist as he prepared to lift her and put her over his knee.

Elfraine renewed her wriggling and squirming but to no avail; there was no escaping his vice-like grip. She made one last desperate attempt to get out of the predicament she found herself in. "Is it too late to apologise?" she asked, looking up into his hard, golden eyes beseechingly.

"Far too late," he replied with great satisfaction; the feeling didn't last.

Elfraine had briefly considered employing her tears; they were one of the most effective weapons in her arsenal but she disliked using them and only did so sparingly. She thought they made her look weak, and she got greater satisfaction out of cutting off an opponent's head than she did out of crying her way to victory. However she dismissed the idea, deciding there was far more honour in facing up to the music.

She straightened her spine, and held Nuada's fiery, intimidating gaze. "Do what you will. I was going for your throat when I taunted you so I can hardly complain when you take your own revenge in turn, though I don't consider you're repaying me in kind by _spanking_ me," she said with a hint of hauteur.

Her admission took him by surprise and he bit back a curse. Her forthright words had suddenly taken a great deal of the heat out of his anger, and to his annoyance he found he no longer had the stomach for it. There was a long pause and then he snarled in frustration and stood up, dumping her roughly on the couch. "On second thoughts," he bit out, "I'll give you one last chance. But make no mistake, if you _ever_ annoy me like that again, _nothing_ will stay my hand!"

With a fierce scowl he took his seat again in the chair opposite her, feeling most disagreeably wound up. He was beginning to suspect, much to his disgust, that he might not have the fortitude for this. With one last dark look in Elfraine's direction, he started telling the dragons some more tales of his people - tales about the great battles he'd fought with long-dead human foes, and the victories he'd won over those hollow, selfish men. And this time, he recounted those tales in English.

Elfraine, meanwhile, bent her head to hide the mutinous expression in her eyes; she was still none too happy with the situation. Nuada would not have relented on his threat if he'd caught sight of the wicked gleam that suddenly lit up Elfraine's eyes. Revenge was indeed a dish best served cold she told herself as she picked up his shirt again and plied her needle with renewed purpose.

Eventually she stopped sewing and inspected her handiwork. She was well-pleased with what she saw and, being in a better mood now, turned her attention back to the Elven prince. She'd been listening to his stories as she worked, and as he paused after one particularly gruesome account she spoke. "Given your hatred of humans, I'm surprised you have anything to do with an organisation like the Bureau."

"It is not by choice that I associate with that accursed place!" Nuada said tersely as he glared at her.

"Oh! What compels you to do so then?" she asked curiously.

"That is none of your business," he replied shortly.

Elfraine looked down at her sewing once again and was silent for a few moments. She then slid Nuada a sly look as she said, with her fingers crossed under his shirt, "I'd heard you harbour a great deal of respect and admiration for Director Manning, and feel honoured to be working under him."

"Be careful, madam," Nuada warned her, his voice deadly quiet. "You try my patience yet again."

"Oh, I don't mean to," said Elfraine hastily. "I know I shouldn't but I was simply repeating some gossip I'd heard from someone or other." She was not being disingenuous so much as telling an outright fib. It was only one more blot in a copy book that had run out of white spaces a long time ago, she told herself.

Nuada snarled at her words. It annoyed him that anyone could think he'd willingly work for Manning and that, moreover, he respected and admired the Director. As a result, he spoke unthinkingly. "That worm would be dead if it weren't for his blasted rune stone!"

Elfraine's head went up. "Rune stone? What has a rune stone to do with anything?"

Nuada gave her a narrow look as he realised he'd said more than he meant to. However it was out now and he didn't want any misconceptions to linger over the matter. "Manning somehow got hold of a rune stone and a spell, and forced my allegiance," he said abruptly. He waited for some mocking comment from the annoying woman but to his surprise, he found himself quite gratified by her response.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Poor, foolish Director Manning! I don't imagine there'll be much left of him to bury once you've found a way to break the power of his rune stone."

"There'll be absolutely nothing!" declared Nuada, taking grim satisfaction in the thought.

"Well, I'm sure it won't take you long," remarked Elfraine with an encouraging smile. She looked down at his shirt. "You'll be pleased to know too that I've finally finished this."

The dragons started chattering and moving around, distracting Elfraine from her contemplation of the garment in her hands. "I see they're almost ready to go out hunting."

"I'll take my leave now too," said Nuada as he stared at her hands. He felt a strange reluctance to go but he no longer had any reason to stay.

Elfraine heard the undertone of hesitation in his voice. "Remember, you're welcome to visit again," she told him politely. "And I promise I'll endeavour to be a better hostess next time." A rueful grin accompanied those words.

Nuada looked at her skeptically but said nothing. He then stood and walked over to the couch. After he'd strapped on his weapons and pulled his gloves back on, he took the shirt from Elfraine's hands and started to leave.

She followed to lock up after him, stopping briefly to put her sewing basket on the kitchen bench. When she looked back at him again, she noticed he was hesitating by the balcony door and got the impression there was something else on his mind.

He turned around and stared at her for a moment before saying, with only the slightest hesitation, "I'm sorry for the... incident with the cabalus. _That_ was not well done of _me_."

"Cabalus?" she asked with a touch of bewilderment.

"The creature that ate you alive!" he explained.

"Oh!" she said, surprised; she hadn't expected he would ever admit to being in the wrong there. And then her expression turned into something else entirely.

Nuada noted with irritation that she wasn't being very gracious about his apology. She had a strange look on her face, rather like she'd sucked on a particularly sour lemon. He scowled and went to leave.

"Your Highness!" exclaimed Elfraine, stopping him as he grasped the door handle. "I've just realised I might not have mended your shirt properly. If you give it back to me, I'll check it and remedy that now," she offered as she held out her hand for the shirt.

Nuada gave her a puzzled frown. "That's quite alright," he said impatiently. "The repairs you've already done will suffice." He turned back to the door and started to push down on the handle.

"Well! Never say I didn't at least _try_ to undo my mischief," she said somewhat petulantly as she dropped her hand. "Just remember it was _you_ who refused to grant me the opportunity!"

Nuada spun round and gave her a hard look. "What have you done?" he asked in a deceptively quiet tone of voice.

Elfraine had the grace to appear embarrassed as she reluctantly answered him. "Ah, well, I might have _accidentally_ stitched one of the sleeves shut at the cuff," she admitted, unable to meet his eye.

Nuada looked down in disbelief at the shirt in his hand then back up at Elfraine, and he suddenly realised he knew the exact moment she'd embarked upon her 'mischief' – it was just after he'd relented on his threat to spank her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she hadn't finished her confession yet.

"And I might have - entirely by accident, you understand - put an extra stitch or two around the collar," she told him as she hung her head and looked down at her feet. "I daresay your head would have to be half its present size to fit through the opening," she muttered carelessly. She risked a quick glance up at him and wished she hadn't bothered; he had a face like thunder.

Nuada's mouth compressed into a thin line of annoyance, and he thrust his shirt back into Elfraine's hands before grabbing her by the arm and marching her over to the couch. He sat her down none too gently, retrieved her sewing basket from the kitchen bench, and dropped it in her lap. "Fix it now, madam!" he commanded. He then sat down in the chair across from her so he could keep a closer eye on the repairs this time.

Elfraine bit her lip and did as she was bid. As she worked she risked a glance or two at him from behind the wavy tumble of her hair. He still had a hard, flinty look in his golden eyes, and he stared unnervingly at her as she unpicked the stitches.

"You must admit, it would have been quite funny," she finally ventured, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She tried to keep the amusement out of her voice, and bent her head to hide her smile.

"For you perhaps... but not for me!" replied Nuada shortly, though there was less heat in his voice than before.

"Oh, I'm sure you would have eventually seen the humour in it... maybe in a thousand years or two!" she remarked.

He just gave her an exasperated look at that.

"There," she said, as she snipped the final thread and held up his shirt. "All done... or rather, undone."

"Thank you," he said grudgingly as he stood and took the shirt from her. He then turned towards the door.

"You're welcome," she replied as she rose from the couch. "Oh, and Your Highness," she added, stopping him yet again.

"Yes." There was more than a touch of impatience in the word. He whipped back round with a questioning look.

"I accept your apology... for the incident with that creature the other night."

He was already beginning to wonder what on earth had possessed him to apologise for that, and merely inclined his head before once more attempting to leave.

However Elfraine stopped him for a third time as she added, in the spirit of meeting him half way, "I wasn't entirely careful in my choice of words when we first met, and I realise I may have goaded you a little. You probably know by now that tact and diplomacy are not strong points with me."

"Except when it suits you!" muttered Nuada under his breath, certain that the one thing he _did_ know was she almost never said a word without being fully aware of its intended effect on her audience.

Elfraine heard him but decided to let it go. "Shall we split the difference and share the blame?" she offered instead.

Nuada was surprised at her generosity, and inclined his head once more, in wary agreement this time, before walking back over to the door. Elfraine followed him, and he stopped and turned to take his leave of her.

"Thank you for the... _mostly_ pleasant evening," he said, with only slightly grudging edge to his tone. He caught his breath as her eyes lit up with good-natured laughter and she smiled charmingly at his reluctant civility, and he suddenly regretted not being more generous in his thanks.

Elfraine dipped in a small curtsey and said prettily, "You're welcome, Sir. Please, feel free to call again. I'm sure you won't have recounted all your people's stories to the dragons in just one evening, especially when I've so selfishly taken up your time with other _less_ pleasant matters."

Nuada gave her a considering look and surprised Elfraine, turning into the perfect gentleman as he replied smoothly, "The fault was entirely mine, Miss Somerled. Once again, thank you... _without_ reservation this time." He then held out his gloved hand to her.

Elfraine glanced down in surprise. After the briefest of pauses she placed her hand in his and stared up at him again, suddenly feeling unsure of herself. She saw a touch of warmth in his golden eyes as he held her gaze and carried her hand to his lips to kiss it. His look made her feel rather warm herself.

Nuada released her hand and noted with satisfaction the faint blush of colour that graced Elfraine's cheeks at his gesture. Without another word, he turned and walked out onto the terrace.

Elfraine just stood there, staring after him with a troubled expression on her face.

As he made his way across the rooftop, Nuada glanced down at the shirt in his hand and shook his head in exasperation. But the faintest glimmer of a smile touched his dark lips before he disappeared into the cold night.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

The idea of true names having power comes from Ursula Le Guin's _Earthsea_ series of books, in particular the first book, _A Wizard of Earthsea_ (first published by Parnassus Press, 1968).


	16. Chapter 15

__Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work.__

**Chapter 15**

Nuada arrived for Manning's daily debrief and took his place by the bookshelf. He noticed that the only one who hadn't arrived yet was Miss Somerled, and at the thought of her he frowned darkly.

He'd found himself in a surprisingly light mood as he made his way back to the Bureau last night. Much to his surprise, he'd realised he was beginning to enjoy the woman's company... sometimes. The harmless trick she'd thought to play on him with his shirt was something his sister might have done once, before everything had gone so terribly wrong between them.

The thought of Nuala and all they'd once meant to each other had made his heart ache. He'd ruthlessly pushed those memories aside and returned to his consideration of Miss Somerled; it didn't pain him to think of her. There was a thread of steel in her that he had to admit he found fascinating. And then there was that smile of hers, and her laughing eyes; she'd been so full of warmth and life as he'd taken his leave of her... _human_ warmth and _human_ life.

He'd come to a sudden halt at that unpleasant recollection, and had been almost immediately filled with a sense of bitter self-recrimination. After countless battles with endless waves of human foes, and after all his efforts on behalf of his people to free them from the crushing press of relentless human greed, he'd found himself actually starting to think well of a human. He'd been filled with disgust at that, as he still was, and to make matters worse he'd treated her with a courtesy she didn't deserve by virtue of the very fact she was human. Was he so weak that his focus was to be knocked out of orbit and his hatred and resolve robbed of their vigour by a warm smile and a pair of laughing brown eyes? It was yet another humiliation to be heaped upon him along with all the others he'd endured since Manning had bound him with that cursed rune stone.

His dark thoughts were interrupted as the very man himself said in a stern tone, "And what time do you call this, Miss Somerled?"

Nuada's head went up and he scowled at Elfraine as she walked into the room. He noticed she didn't look at him; in fact she seemed determined not to meet his eye. Good! He was pleased to see she felt as uncomfortable as he did. It was some small salve to his pride.

"I call it 9.30 in the morning, Director Manning," she replied, with a shade less than her usual poise. "I do apologise for keeping you waiting. I completely lost track of the time."

Manning looked at his watch pointedly and then frowned at the rest of the team. "Never mind. You weren't the only one who was late." Kraus and Myers were, as usual, the only ones who'd been on time while the rest had straggled in as they felt like it.

Well, thought Manning to himself, the rest had better sharpen up their acts or they'd be put to shame by the European agents who were arriving in three days' time.

He cleared his throat. "Now that you're all _finally_ here, we'll get started," he announced. "Dr Kraus, you can kick off. What did you find out about those stone heads?"

"It was most disappointing," replied Kraus. "I could find nothing specific on dem. Zey haf been associated with Celtic cults for millennia and can be found built into houses and structures all over Europe."

"Why would anybody want to do that?" asked John curiously.

"Even today zey are believed to haf magical properties. In der old Celtic religions der head was der most important part of der body and it was believed it could protect against witchcraft and evil. It probably had something to do with zat."

"So how does that help us?" asked Hellboy impatiently.

"Zat is der disappointing part," replied Kraus. "It doesn't help us at all. I wasn't even able to find out where der heads in der Bureau came from. I can only think zat someone is somehow harnessing der magic in zem and using it for his or her own ends. Beyond that, I know nothing."

"Has anybody got any ideas?" asked Manning hopefully. It seemed the leads were rapidly drying up.

There was a perplexed silence, and then Nuala spoke. "Perhaps we could ask at the Troll Market. Someone there might know something." She looked nervously at her brother and, as she feared, he wasn't at all happy with her idea. He'd been glaring at Miss Somerled since the meeting started but now his disapproving stare was fixed firmly on her.

Manning looked at Nuala with approval and said, "Good idea princess!"

"We'll go tonight and see what we can find out," Hellboy stated. He was looking forward to visiting the market again. He hadn't really had a chance to have a good look round the last time they were there.

"No!" bit out Nuada, and everyone looked at him in surprise. "I think you'll find you're not welcome there after your visit four years ago," he informed the demon with a sneer. "None of you are particularly welcome, and no one will tell you anything," he added contemptuously as he surveyed the group before him.

"Yeah?" challenged Hellboy. "Well that's too bad! We're all going! And I'll make _someone_ talk," he said, flexing his right hand threateningly.

Nuada silently cursed his _helpful_ sister for being so kind as to inflict BPRD agents, especially _these_ BPRD agents, on her own people. It suddenly occurred to him though that this could work to his advantage. It _was_ a good idea to ask about the heads at the Troll Market and if he went alone, he needn't necessarily inform Manning if he discovered anything. As well, he could see how his other enquiries were progressing. With any luck the pixie's source would have some information about the Rune of Odin and the name 'Grosseteste'. He could also ask about the strange opalescent object the cabalus had given him.

"_I'll_ go... _alone_," he said tersely. Although the words tasted bitter on his tongue, he added, "We stand a better chance of finding out something that way. If anyone knows anything, they'll talk to _me_."

Manning gave the prince a hard stare. He realised the elf was right about Hellboy and his team but he didn't trust Nuada to go on his own. Happily, he had another option. "Ok, prince. You see what you can find out at the Troll Market... and take Miss Somerled with you." He could see Nuada was about to protest, and quickly added, "She wasn't there four years ago so no one will have anything to complain about."

"Except for the fact that she's _human_," hissed Nuada, thoroughly annoyed by the Director's order.

"You'll manage, I'm sure," replied Manning. "Maybe she can wear a disguise or something. You two can sort out the details," he said, as he looked at both Nuada and Elfraine.

He then turned his attention to Hellboy; Red appeared to be having something of a problem with the plan. "_You're_ not going!" he informed the demon shortly. He threw in a sweetener to cut off the argument he could see coming his way. "Abe told me you and the prince had no luck with the spy yesterday. We'll give it one more day using conventional methods and after that you can do whatever you think it'll take to get him to talk."

Hellboy frowned; he'd rather have gone to the Troll Market but he could see the Director wasn't going to budge.

"That's it for now," said Manning as he dismissed them.

As everyone started to move, Manning remembered the other thing he had to cover. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, stopping them as they went to leave. "Two agents from our European branch are coming to lend a hand until we can get some permanent replacements for the ones we've lost. They'll be here in three days' time."

"Only two?" queried Abe.

"Oh, they're two of the best the Bureau has," Manning informed them smugly, getting in a not so subtle dig at Hellboy and his team. "Isn't that right, Kraus?"

"Ja!" agreed Kraus. "Zey are top-notch operatives. Zey vill be a huge asset to us."

"Just so long as they understand who's in charge!" muttered Hellboy, with a dark look at Elfraine. One 'consultant' was more than enough!

"Everyone else is back in from the field now so I'll give them their own team and their own missions," Manning informed him, forestalling any arguments over who was in charge of what. "They might be able to come up with some new leads. Right! Let's get on with it."

Being last to arrive, Elfraine was closest to the door and she tried to make good her escape now.

However Nuala held her up as she gestured her aside and asked quietly, "Will we still meet at lunchtime today, Miss Somerled?"

"What? Oh, yes! Of course, Ma'am," replied Elfraine distractedly. "Shall we say one o'clock?"

"That suits me," said Nuala. "I'll meet you in the Archives room then we can find somewhere suitable to practice."

"Very well," said Elfraine with a tight smile, before hurrying off.

Nuala looked after Elfraine with a curious expression on her face. She'd noticed the woman's distraction and wondered why she was in such a rush to get away. Perhaps Miss Somerled might enlighten her later. With a shake of her head, Nuala left the room too.

Nuada overheard their exchange and looked suspiciously at his sister's retreating back. What on earth was she up to, he wondered. He hung back and followed her at a discreet distance, and his strategy quickly paid off.

Liz had also heard the exchange between Nuala and Elfraine, and she approached Nuala now and asked, as they walked down the corridor, "What's happening at one?"

The princess, not realising her brother was following, replied readily enough, "Oh, Miss Somerled has agreed to continue teaching me how to use a sword. We're going to have a training session then."

Nuada scowled as he heard that. He thought he'd made it clear to both his sister and Miss Somerled in the armoury two days ago that Nuala was not to ever fight again. That accursed human had a lot to answer for. She'd defied him by agreeing to continue training his sister and she owed him an explanation at the very least. He was determined to get her promise, for what it was worth, to desist with her efforts to instruct his sister, and he'd also take the opportunity to set down the rules for the visit to the Troll Market that night. With those thoughts in mind, Nuada set out to find the infernal woman.

**... ... ...**

Elfraine put her book down and closed her eyes as she laid her head back against the hard bark of the tree. It was an unseasonably warm day and she sighed in delight as sunlight caressed her face. She'd been at work since seven that morning and needed some fresh air, particularly after the strain of Manning's daily debrief. If it wasn't for the dragon magic she strongly suspected she'd have a pounding headache by now. And if it wasn't for the dragon magic she wouldn't even _be_ here now, she thought cynically. As it was, she felt unusually washed out. After Nuada had left last night she'd been unable to get any sleep for thinking about the look in his eyes as he'd kissed her hand.

The thing that troubled her most was her own blushing response; after all, she was no innocent maid to go swooning over a handsome face, a fine figure and nice manners. She'd had three husbands for goodness sakes and if she'd ever been prone to it, the last one had cured her of any such foolishness. Besides, it was the first time in any of his dealings with her that the prince's manners could be called 'nice'; it wasn't as if he'd acted even remotely like a gentleman in their previous encounters. The best that could be said of his behaviour towards her was that he'd stretched himself to show a grudging civility and tolerance on occasion.

She wondered what he could possibly be up to but couldn't for the life of her come up with any plausible explanation for his unexpected actions last night. Even if he _had_ discovered a means by which to do away with her, he'd promised the dragons he wouldn't harm her so there was no reason for him to try and lull her into a false sense of security before delivering whatever killing blow he might think he had up his sleeve. Elfraine had thought they'd reached an uneasy truce of sorts in their dealings with one another but she wondered about that now. She shook her head at her own foolishness, and could only conclude she was reading too much into what was, after all, just a look.

She frowned at her watch; it was almost time to return to work. Glancing up, she saw Nuada striding purposefully towards her with a thunderous look on his face. That was more like it she thought, pleased to find herself back on solid ground once more and looking forward to the battle headed her way.

... ...

The prince kept his eyes fixed firmly on Elfraine as he neared her. He couldn't understand how it had come to pass that he'd ever thought anything good of her, and he'd spent hours last night going over every minute he'd ever spent in her company, trying to find some explanation for it. All that had done though was put him in a worse temper, and leave him with more uncertainty than he could ever recall feeling. The only reassurance he could find in anything was the fact that he'd become aware of his lapse early on in the piece, and he could now ruthlessly correct his weak-minded thinking.

He was also pleased to find himself on firmer ground with the matter of instructing his sister in the art of fighting; it was going to be a pleasure to confront the infernal _human_ over her perfidious behaviour.

**... ... **

Nuada came to a halt directly in front of Elfraine forcing her to bend her neck right back to look up at him. He stood there with his hands on his hips as he asked abruptly, "Why did you agree to continue teaching my sister to use a sword? I thought I'd made it clear when I returned from Greenland that she wasn't to touch one again!"

Elfraine snorted inelegantly at that. "And a good day to you too, _Your Highness_!" she replied sarcastically. "I thought you said she wasn't to fight those shadow creatures again. I don't recall you forbidding anything else. Anyway, I agreed because your sister asked me to. I don't see what _you_ have to do with anything."

"How dare you defy me! My intention was clear enough!" he bit out harshly, enraged at her cavalier attitude.

Elfraine merely gave him a haughty look and said, somewhat insolently, "You appear to be labouring under the delusion you have a say in such matters... I think you'll find you _don't_. The decision rests entirely with your sister. If you're unhappy with it then I suggest you talk to her."

"I'm talking to _you!_" he said abruptly as he glared at her.

"Well, I'm not talking to _you_!" she exclaimed as she lay back on the ground and looked up at him mutinously. "As I've _already_ said, you need to discuss this with your sister. _Our_ discussion, if you can call it that, is over so good day to you, Sir!" she said in dismissal of him. And with that she picked up her book, placed it over her face and announced, "Henceforth I am invisible... so kindly take the hint, _Your Highness_!"

Nuada scowled fiercely, infuriated by her response. She might think she'd finished discussing the matter but he hadn't, and he poked her sharply in the side with the toe of his boot to get her attention.

She made a muffled sound from under the book and, holding it in place with one hand, swiped out at him with her other, connecting painfully with his knee.

Nuada clenched his teeth and bit back a curse; he really should have seen that coming. "You_ human _pestilence," he started to say threateningly.

Elfraine cut him off sharply. "God's blood Sir! Are you _sure_ you were a prince in Elfland and not the village idiot? I said I was invisible. Now go away!" she snapped at him from underneath the book.

Nuada was livid! His eyes narrowed dangerously and he fixed her with a deadly stare as he towered over her, clenching his fists. Unfortunately the effect was lost on Elfraine as she refused to look out from under her book.

His fury doubled as he heard the faint talking of the demon and Miss Sherman in the distance. It sounded as if they were heading in this direction, and that meant Miss Somerled was going to win; he was not prepared to have this discussion, such as it was, in front of an amused audience.

He snarled in frustration, and then he remembered the words she'd said to him last night about revenge being a dish best served cold. An evil smile flitted across his face as an idea formed in his mind, and he made a concentrated effort to rein in his temper. After making sure the approaching duo were not yet in sight, he cloaked himself in a glamour so that he _was_ invisible, and then he crouched down beside Elfraine and waited.

After several moments' silence, she risked a peek from under her book and was pleasantly surprised to see the prince _had_ taken himself off as she'd suggested. Sitting up, she looked around just to make sure, and murmured, "Well, there must be a God in Heaven after all." She continued with a smug smile, "That went more easily than I thought it would! Perhaps he's _finally_ learning."

It cost Nuada a great deal of willpower not to wrap his hands around Elfraine's neck at her self-satisfied look and words. Patience, he told himself.

She started to pick up her things again when she was stopped by the feeling of something trailing slowly across her cheek. Thinking it was a leaf she stopped and pulled forward a handful of hair to examine it. Finding nothing, she shrugged her shoulders and went back to gathering up her things. But the feeling was there again and this time it was on both of her cheeks. She swiped at her face with her hands but again found nothing. A sharp pinch suddenly stung one of her arms and she yelped in surprise. She stood up quickly and looked, around thinking a bee or a wasp might have got her but she couldn't see anything. Then something started pulling at her hair sharply and pinching her relentlessly, and she let out another screech.

She turned around frantically, wondering what on earth was going on. It was as if she was being teased by a ghost... or perhaps a not so friendly elf, she thought as she suddenly remembered something she'd read about the ability of elves to disguise themselves at will. She stopped turning, put her hands on her hips and looked about her suspiciously. "Very amusing!" she snapped. "I know you're there so you might as well show yourself!" Silence was the only thing that greeted her demand.

In the absence of any sort of response there didn't seem to be much she could do so after waiting for a few moments Elfraine bent down to pick up her things. But she suddenly lost her balance as someone or something gave her a firm push, and she fell over.

In the next instant she found herself pinned to the ground as a heavy weight straddled her and started to tickle her mercilessly. She writhed and screeched with a torturous mixture of laughter and pain, and tried to call out "stop!" but couldn't get the words out. Flailing her arms about, she made contact with something hard but her efforts were completely ineffectual against the torment. Suddenly the remorseless tickling stopped and the heavy weight disappeared. She was hauled to her feet by a pair of strong hands and spun about to face the BPRD building.

Nuada was still invisible, and with one arm around her waist, his hand resting on her hip to steady her and his other hand holding her chin, he stood behind her and whispered in her ear "Look!" as he turned her head in the direction of Hellboy and Liz, who were staring at her from some distance away through the trees. They started to head towards her.

She groaned and put her face in her hands as she realised what she must look like to them. Raising her head again she murmured, "Oh, well played Sir. They no doubt think _I_ am the village idiot!" And with that her sense of humour got the better of her and she started to laugh softly, leaning back slightly into Nuada as she did so.

His hand on her hip tightened reflexively as he was suddenly enchanted by the feel of her warm body brushing up against him, and he instinctively leaned forward to increase the contact. His other hand trailed slowly along her jaw and down her neck before coming to rest on her shoulder. He bent his head and drew a deep breath, inhaling the light feminine scent of her, while the hand at her hip slid across her stomach and anchored her more tightly against him.

Elfraine gasped in surprise and her laughter suddenly died. Then she gave a soft sigh as she melted back into him unthinkingly.

Nuada's eyes caught on the irresistible sweep of her pale neck and he leaned down to lightly brush his lips over the sensitive spot right on the curve of it.

Delicious shivers of sensation sliced through Elfraine's body; she laid her head back on his chest and turned to look up at him over her shoulder. She couldn't see anything of him but she could _feel_ everything: the silky fall of his hair as it brushed her cheek, the warmth of his breath as it mingled with hers, his lips only a whisper away from her own, and the hot, burning sensation of him everywhere his body pressed against hers. She drew a shuddering breath as she suddenly went weak at the knees. It was just as well he had hold of her because she couldn't have stood on her own if her life depended on it.

Unlike Elfraine, Nuada could see everything that was written on _her_ face, and his eyes devoured the sight of her flushed skin, her parted lips and her warm, liquid eyes, which shimmered with awakening desire. The feel of her soft curves pressed against his body was an irresistible torment, and he wrapped both arms around her to hold her even more tightly as his own desire built with increasing urgency. His lips touched hers, as light as a feather, and he was about to take her mouth in a deeper kiss when he became aware that the distant talking he'd heard was now uncomfortably close.

The sound rapidly brought Nuada to his senses. He looked down at Elfraine, horrified at what he'd almost done, and then tore his gaze away from her face only to see that the demon and Miss Sherman were almost upon them. Quickly releasing his hold on Elfraine he took two swift steps back from her, inordinately glad he was still cloaked in his glamour.

Elfraine was not so lucky. Deprived of the support of his arms she sank to the ground, still dazed by his caresses, and it took her some moments to regain her wits. When she did, she looked up to see Hellboy and Liz staring at her curiously and she felt her cheeks flame with equal parts frustration and embarrassment.

"You look as red as me!" laughed Hellboy. Pleased with his joke, he turned and winked at Liz who rolled her eyes at him.

"Are you all right Elfraine?" she asked with some concern, taking note of the other woman's flushed cheeks, feverish eyes, and shortness of breath.

"Um, yes... ah, thanks Liz," replied Elfraine as she regained her breath and scrambled unsteadily to her feet. She looked about with narrowed eyes but of course could see nothing of Nuada. How convenient to actually _be_ invisible, she thought grumpily.

"I was merely bothered by a wasp and I think it might have stung me... though it's hard to be sure. It seemed quite a fearsome thing at the time but it turned out to have only a very _little_ sting," she said meaningfully as she looked around again, hoping the unchivalrous elf was still within ear shot.

He was, and he took her meaning only all too well. It was time to put an end to this entire sorry episode, Nuada thought. What on earth had possessed him! The firm ground he'd been so pleased to find earlier had just completely disappeared from under his feet. He walked quickly and silently up to Elfraine and gave her a hard pinch on the backside before heading back to the BPRD building in a worse mood and greater state of uncertainty than ever.

Elfraine jumped and shrieked at the unexpected attack.

Hellboy and Liz stared, wondering at her sanity. Neither of them could see any sign of anything and Hellboy asked, with a suspicious look, "Another wasp, eh?"

"Yes, another wasp," she sighed in a tone of weary exasperation, as she rubbed her backside. "It seems they're determined to have the last word today."

**... ... ...**

Elfraine finally made it back to the Archives room and sat down at her desk feeling very much shaken over what had just happened. She couldn't believe she'd so completely lost her wits. It should have been _her_ that stepped away from _him_ at the first hint anything like that was going to happen. Instead, she was left with the nasty feeling that had it been up to her, she'd have swived him in the blink of an eye. She'd known from the moment she laid eyes on him that the elf was going to be nothing but trouble and he'd just proven her right yet again. He was a dangerous distraction in more ways than one! The only thing that reassured her was the thought that if she knew him at all, the prince would be as horrified by the episode amongst the trees as she was and have as little appetite for a repeat of it as she did. From now on she'd stay well out of his way.

Unfortunately she was supposed to be visiting the Troll Market with him that night to try and find out more about those blasted Celtic stone heads, and Elfraine groaned in dismay as she suddenly remembered that charming little fact.


	17. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 16**

At one o'clock on the dot there was a light tap on the Archives room door and Elfraine looked up in surprise. She realised she'd forgotten all about their training session as Nuala walked in. Maybe it was just what she needed to take her mind off what had happened earlier with the princess's brother. Despite her best intentions she'd done more woolgathering than work since she got back to the Archives room, unable to tear her mind away for long from those few heart-stopping moments when she'd been wrapped in his arms and he'd so very nearly kissed her.

"Are you alright, Miss Somerled?" asked Nuala, breaking in on Elfraine's once more wandering thoughts.

Elfraine pasted a smile on her face and silently castigated herself as she replied, "I'm fine thank you Ma'am. Shall we make a start? There's an almost-empty storeroom on the other side of the corridor that should suit our purposes, and I got two swords for us from the armoury yesterday. I think it'll be better if you use an ordinary weapon rather than the Varangian one. I don't suppose Director Manning would be too pleased with us if we burnt the place down." At Nuala's enquiring look, she added, "There's still enough paper left in the storeroom to start a decent fire."

"Very well, Miss Somerled," said Nuala, with a smile. "Lead the way."

... ...

Elfraine and Nuala had been practicing some basic blocking moves for about twenty minutes when the door to the storeroom suddenly swung open and hit the wall with a resounding thud that made both women jump. They quickly turned around and saw Nuada standing there glaring at them fiercely.

When he'd left Elfraine earlier, Nuada had been disgusted with himself more than anything. He'd meant to stiffen his hatred and resolve after he caught himself thinking well of her but instead he'd held her in his arms and almost _kissed_ her, stiffening something else entirely in the process. She had the face of an angel and the body of a nymph, and when he was younger he would have bedded her in an instant. Even now, with all that he knew about humans, he had to wonder if it would be such a great hardship to lose himself in her for a while, and he was sorely tempted to try his luck. But to do so would only prove him weak, and he dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred to him. Instead, he resolved to master his aberrant desire and overcome these unaccustomed feelings of uncertainty presently besetting him.

With those thoughts in mind he'd set out for the training room shortly before one, determined to put an end to his sister's and Miss Somerled's nonsense. He wouldn't skulk and hide just because of one misstep. He'd face up to this failing in his character, and do everything in his power to correct it. And this time he'd deal with the problem properly... instead of trying to _kiss_ it into submission.

However to Nuada's annoyance the women weren't in the training room, and he had to go hunting for them. He eventually arrived at the Archives room and saw that it too was empty. As he was about to head back along the corridor, he recognised his sister's laughter coming from a room on the other side of the passageway and his eyes narrowed dangerously; he'd tracked down his quarry at last. He threw the door open for maximum effect, and was gratified to see both his sister and Miss Somerled jump at the noise.

Ignoring Elfraine entirely, Nuada walked up to his sister and turned the full force of his fury on her. "I thought I made it clear you weren't to pick up a sword again!" he said threateningly as he backed her up against the wall and hemmed her in. A loud cough from Elfraine distracted him, and he swung round to glare at her.

"I believe you said the princess wasn't to fight any more shadow creatures," she reminded him helpfully.

"You are _not_ part of this conversation, _human_. Be quiet!" he bit out before turning his attention back to Nuala.

Behind his back, Elfraine stuck out her tongue and pulled a face, and Nuala was hard pressed not to laugh. She knew, however, that if she didn't want to inflame her brother any further, she'd best have a care not to show any amusement at his expense, and Nuala really didn't want to make him any angrier than he already was. His temper could be quite vicious and he wasn't always careful about who he loosed it on, as she knew only too well.

"I can't see the harm in at least knowing some of the basics," she said hesitantly. "Abraham cannot be with me at all times to protect me," she added, before realising, with a sinking feeling, that any mention of Abe was, of course, the wrong thing to say.

"Then why are you with that _creature_ if he can't assure your safety?" demanded Nuada, pouncing on her slip immediately.

"We love each other," Nuala replied steadily.

"Love?" sneered Nuada. "_Love_ won't protect you!"

"Then you must surely agree that the princess _should_ learn how to defend herself," broke in Elfraine, pouncing on the flaw in _his_ argument. "If neither husbandly love nor brotherly love can protect her it would appear she must fall back on her own resources."

"I thought I told you to be quiet," Nuada snarled savagely at her.

Elfraine ignored him and continued on; it was a subject dear to her own heart. "No woman should ever rely entirely on a man," she advised the princess. "That's the height of foolishness. They invariably put their own interests above their womenfolk's, and we are the ones who end up paying the price for their blind ambition, careless indifference, and utter stupidity... and in some cases, their black-hearted villainy," she finished bitterly. Noticing the slightly offended look on Nuala's face she added quickly, if not entirely convincingly, "But I'm sure that doesn't apply to Agent Sapien. If there _is_ such a thing as a good man you seem to have found him, Ma'am."

Elfraine should have been paying more attention to Nuada. She jumped as he suddenly appeared at her side and grabbed her by the arms. Swinging her round to face him, he gave her a hard shake and lifted her straight up off the ground so her face was level with his. He enunciated with chilling precision, "You are sorely trying my patience, madam. Remember my promise to you on that score. Now be quiet!" He then set her back on the ground and, still retaining his grip on her, looked over the top of her head at his sister once more.

Nuala noted with surprise that her brother didn't seem at all inclined to let go of Miss Somerled; in fact he was holding her rather more closely than was strictly necessary whilst Miss Somerled, for her part, didn't appear to be overly anxious to get away from _him_.

Nuada saw his sister's look, and frowned with annoyance as he quickly let go of Elfraine's arms and took a step back, putting some distance between them.

Elfraine increased the distance as she moved closer to Nuala.

"You might have betrayed me four years ago but I will _never_ abandon you, sister," Nuada declared to the princess. "You don't have to place yourself needlessly in the way of danger. I'll see to your safety if your _Abraham_ cannot."

Nuala's heart sank at his words; it was just what she didn't want but she realised she had to tread carefully. Ignoring the subject of Abraham entirely, she attempted to address his other grievance. "Brother, I know you think I betrayed you in Ireland but I was standing up for what I believed in, for what our father believed in. The honour of our people is more important than any single one of us."

"And what will happen to our _honour_ when there is not a single one of us left?" he asked bitterly.

"It will fade with us if that is what must happen," she replied quietly.

"We seem to have had this discussion before," Nuada noted cynically. "You are obviously determined to ignore the truth of what I say!"

"And you are obviously determined to ignore _my_ feelings on the matter, brother," replied Nuala with some heat. "You've never given my beliefs and opinions any weight. It's as though you think me so inconsequential that you'll change my mind through sheer dint of personality alone."

"That is not true, sister" he protested. "I've always valued your opinion. Why do you think I tried so hard to persuade you to my view?"

"Certainly not because you valued my opinion!" said Nuala indignantly. "You tried to persuade me to your view as a way of gaining ascendency in your struggle with athair. You saw my support as a weapon you could use against him, and that's why you sought to change my mind. I have no doubt that if you'd thought I posed any serious threat to your plans four years ago, and you could have done so without harming yourself, you'd have killed me as easily as you killed father!"

Elfraine started, and stared at Nuada in disbelief; he'd killed his own father! The elves seemed to have forgotten her presence entirely but this was obviously private family business, and she was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable. She started to edge her way slowly and cautiously towards the door.

"By the Gods, there was _nothing_ easy about killing athair!" Nuada exclaimed, shocked that she could think otherwise. "I loved him but I was fighting for my _life_, for _your_ life – for all the value that you put on it!" he added caustically. "And most of all I was fighting for the future of our people. It became clear to me that night he would _never_ change his mind," he said bitterly. "And where was _his_ love for _us_? He'd just ordered my death... and_ yours_! What was I supposed to do? Meekly submit to such a fate? You might have been willing to, sister but _I_ wasn't! And I could not stand to see him harm you in such a way!"

Elfraine's disbelief grew even greater. A father would have killed his own children; a king would have killed his own heirs and all for some misguided – to her eyes at least – notion of honour! It was definitely time to leave. She took another few careful steps in the direction of the door.

"And yet you never hesitated to harm me yourself," said Nuala, accusingly.

"What do you mean?" Nuada asked in confusion.

"In the library, the night you came here to find the map and my piece of the crown, you didn't hesitate to cut my cheek just to make a point. I was a mere pawn in your game, to be used as you saw fit," Nuala replied bitterly.

"Well you certainly repaid me for that didn't you, sister!" exclaimed Nuada scathingly. "You took your own life simply to end mine!"

Elfraine nearly tripped over at his words. She'd clearly underestimated the princess - Nuala had killed both herself and her brother! They'd been dead... and obviously brought back to life somehow! Quiet caution be damned; Elfraine decided she was getting out of there as quickly as she could, and she made smartly for the door.

She'd just grasped the handle when, without warning, the sharp end of a spear slammed into one of the door panels, stopping her in her tracks.

"And where do you think you're going?" Nuada asked in a deadly voice as he retracted the Silverlance and started towards her.

Elfraine turned back to them and replied coolly, "I had thought to spare you both the embarrassment of airing any more of your dirty linen in public, though there surely can't _be_ much more left to wave about."

"I blame you entirely," snarled Nuada unreasonably as he reached her side.

"Of course you do," murmured Elfraine.

"If you'd taken my advice this morning and desisted with the foolish notion of teaching my sister to fight, this whole episode could have been avoided," he informed her, the accusation clear in his voice.

"I can only repeat what I said this morning; that decision rests entirely with your sister," Elfraine responded, the annoyance clear in hers.

Nuala suddenly found herself the object of two angry gazes, one elven and one human. They seemed to be waiting for her to say something. She stiffened her spine and addressed Elfraine. "Miss Somerled, it would please me greatly if you continued to train me."

"It would be my honour, Ma'am," Elfraine replied readily. "Might I suggest we continue another day? His Highness has selfishly wasted most of our time today." She turned to Nuada and flashed him a smug look of triumph before adding in a condescending tone, "I take it you won't grace us with your presence next time, now that Her Highness has made her decision on the matter."

Nuada gritted his teeth, and looked at both Elfraine and his sister with dislike. They weren't going to get away with it that easily, he decided. "On the contrary... _I_ will see to the training of my sister," he informed them, taking a great deal of satisfaction from the sour expression that suddenly appeared on Nuala's face.

As Elfraine shot her a commiserating look, Nuada struck his next blow with the same deadly precision. "And _you_ as well, Miss Somerled." He took even more satisfaction from the sour expression that suddenly appeared on _her_ face. "The matter is settled. I will not tolerate _any_ disagreement," he added menacingly as they both opened their mouths to protest.

Nuala wisely retreated but Elfraine decided to give it a go anyway. "_I_ already know how to fight. I don't need any further instruction," she informed him, not unreasonably.

"All _you_ know how to do is die... and you can't even do that properly!" he corrected nastily. "I believe you're already aware of my opinion of your fighting skills. You most definitely need to work on your technique. It could stand to be greatly improved," said Nuada, taking malicious pleasure in his words.

"And I repeat, Sir, I am not as incompetent as you seem to think," returned Elfraine, greatly offended by his comments.

"Then by all means, prove me wrong," he invited mockingly as he drew his sword.

Elfraine frowned; she should have expected he'd call her out. While it was true she was _not_ incompetent, she was in no way his equal and she didn't fancy being shown up by him. Still, she could do nothing if not talk a good game. "No, I don't think so," she said slowly. "After all, I might have to kill you one day. I'm sure you'll understand that I don't wish to squander the element of surprise in a pointless piece of one-upmanship now," she said as she gave him a superior look.

She was about to congratulate herself on sidestepping that one so adroitly when Nuada threw back his head and laughed as he saw straight through her outrageous assertion. Elfraine flew into a fine temper and stamped her foot instead, making him laugh even more.

"I thought as much," he sneered as he recovered from his amusement. "There is nothing further to discuss, ladies," and so saying, he re-sheathed his sword. His next words were directed at Elfraine. "I'll see _you_ in the Archives room at sunset. Make sure you're ready!" he ordered, as he left the storeroom.


	18. Chapter 17

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 17**

"Ah yes, this evening's visit to the Troll Market," said Elfraine with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, after Nuada had left. "Now there's something to look forward to," she muttered ironically. Another thought occurred to her and, turning to Nuala, she remarked dryly, "There's rather a lot you _didn't_ tell me in the armoury the other night."

"Do you blame me?" asked Nuala, though it was more a statement than a question.

"No, I don't suppose I do. I once knew a playwright who would have made a fine tragedy out of your family's history," remarked Elfraine in a measured tone.

"It's hardly a laughing matter, Miss Somerled," said Nuala stiffly. In truth, she was grateful to Elfraine for deflecting her brother's searing attention away from herself, though she didn't think that had been the other woman's intention. She'd noticed Miss Somerled never backed down from a challenge, and her brother certainly threw enough of those in the human's direction. Nuala secretly envied Elfraine that quality and wished for more of it herself. If she was ever going to stand a chance of resolving things with her brother, she'd need it. And she did want to reconcile with him if she could, she realised with a start. He was the last of her family, and she owed it to both him and their people to at least try. As much as she was determined to follow their father's path and honour the truce, it distressed her to think of their people leaderless and adrift as they faced the end of their kind.

"You'll note I said 'tragedy' and not 'comedy'," Elfraine was pointing out. "I don't mean to offend you, and I'm not unsympathetic, Ma'am," she added with a hint of contrition. "My own kin were hardly exemplars of familial virtue. And as for my husbands... well, the less said about them the better."

"Husbands?" asked Nuala curiously.

Elfraine gave her a wry look. "Yes, husbands," she confirmed. With a shake of her head, she turned the conversation back to Nuala. "You and your brother appear to be very much at odds over certain matters. Your differences seem irreconcilable, to say the least."

Nuala sighed sadly at that. "It's hard to believe we were once so close, and thought alike on so many things. We're twins, and before our deaths we shared a close physical and emotional link. The only thing we ever truly disagreed on was the truce with the humans."

"It must be difficult then to find yourselves at such loggerheads over that," observed Elfraine.

"It is, and his temper doesn't help. I find myself reluctant to test it for fear of the reaction I'll get. He won't even _consider_ my position. Nuada believes passionately in his cause, and is willing to make any sacrifice to achieve his aim," explained Nuala.

"As are you obviously," noted Elfraine dryly. "It's a shame, both for yourselves and your people, that you can't find any common ground in the matter."

Nuala looked sharply at Elfraine but made no reply to her comment. It was, after all, what she'd just been thinking herself though it was a hard truth to face. Instead, she remarked evenly, "I wish I had more of your backbone in dealing with Nuada."

Elfraine gave a short laugh at the princess's words. "Make no mistake, Your Highness, your brother comes as close to giving me a headache as anyone I've met over the last four hundred years. But that's about all he can do to me; he can't kill me and he can't inflict any lasting damage on me so I've really no need to be mindful of his temper. It's easy to be courageous when the consequences are so... inconsequential," she finished with a self-deprecating smile.

"Still, it would be nice to have a bit more nerve in my dealings with him," Nuala said somewhat wistfully.

Elfraine gave her a sympathetic look. "I've done my fair share of treading carefully around men's tempers, Ma'am, and I understand your frustration. I'm sorry but I've no good advice to offer. I don't know what you could do other than finding and persuading a dragon to make you immortal and thereby physically immune at least to your brother's displeasure, and I wouldn't advise that course of action at all," she finished with a hint of bitterness.

The two women were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, before Elfraine shook off hers first. "Well, that's the lunch hour done for today," she said as she looked at her watch. "I daresay simply not turning up for your brother's training session would be unwise," she commented, hoping the princess would say otherwise.

Nuala quickly dashed the hope. "It would be. If we did that, we'd only pay for it in the long run. He'd certainly do his best to give you that headache, and I hate to think of what he'd say to me."

"I thought as much," replied Elfraine, and the two women left the storeroom in lower spirits than when they'd entered it.

**... ... ...**

Nuada had left the storeroom feeling quite pleased with himself. He'd put his sister in her place and bested Miss Somerled. His mood lasted the length of the corridor before it occurred to him that they'd gotten their own way in the matter of his sister learning the art of swordplay, and what's more _he_ was going to be the one to teach her... and the one who was going to give the benefit of his knowledge and experience to the infernal Miss Somerled so she could improve her own skills. Nuada started to get the feeling he'd been somehow manipulated by the women however he quickly realised it was all thanks to his own doing, and by the time he reached his rooms he was in a fairly sour mood himself.

And when he thought of the argument he'd had with his sister over the events of four years ago, his mood only got worse. There was so much separating them, and he was beginning to have serious doubts that matters could ever be put right between them.

About the only thing he'd managed to control was his reaction to Miss Somerled, and even then it was a close run thing. When he'd put her down after telling her to be quiet he'd been reluctant to let her go, and if it hadn't been for his sister's questioning look the Gods only knew how long he'd have held onto her. It was enough to make him feel less confident that he'd get through tonight's visit to the Troll Market without succumbing to the temptation to kiss the woman.

With a grunt of annoyance, he took out his whetstone and set about sharpening his sword. The Silverlance would be next and then he'd polish the weapons, and hopefully by the time he'd finished with that he'd be in a better and more resolute frame of mind.

**... ... ...**

True to his word, Nuada arrived to collect Elfraine from the Archives storeroom at sunset. "It's time to go," he announced without preamble as he entered the room and crossed over to stand in front of her desk.

Elfraine pushed back her chair and stood up. She saw straight away that he was uncomfortable in her presence now there was no one else around to act as a buffer between them, and she silently commiserated with him; it was exactly how she felt at that moment. Best to meet the whole awkward situation head on, she told herself... and she proceeded to attempt just that in a rational and adult-like manner.

"About this morning," she started.

"There is nothing to say about this morning!" Nuada interrupted tersely.

"Except that it won't happen again," Elfraine stated emphatically.

"_That_ should be self-evident," he sneered.

Perversely, Elfraine took exception to his tone as he managed to prick her feminine vanity. "One would think so," she drawled, forgetting all about rational, adult-like behaviour in her determination to prick him back. "But given that you were acting like a trembling virgin just now, I felt it needed saying... if only to help you calm your overwrought nerves," she informed him most unwisely.

"BE QUIET!" he roared furiously as he slammed his fist down on her desk, making everything on it rattle.

Elfraine jumped, and retreated somewhat. "Well, I don't know what you think _you_ have to complain about! After all, you're the one in possession of what moral high ground there is in the whole sorry affair!" she muttered resentfully.

"What do you mean?" snarled Nuada as he struggled to master his temper.

"_You_ stepped away first this morning. It should have been _me _that did that!" she explained irritably.

He gave her a hard look, and then a slow, self-satisfied smile started to spread across his face as her words sank in.

Elfraine eyed him with dislike; he wasn't particularly humble in victory. But then she was hardly gracious in defeat either she supposed as she decided she was going have a damn good go at wiping that smile off his face. "So we're agreed. We won't mention it again, and it won't happen again," she proposed.

"We can most certainly agree on that," Nuada affirmed resolutely.

"Good!" said Elfraine. "Now perhaps you can stop behaving as though I'm about to throw you on your back and have my wicked way with you! Your virtue has never been safer, Sir," she informed him with satisfaction as his smug smile rapidly disappeared. "Shall we go?" she asked politely, as she picked up a small back pack. "The head's in here," she explained as she put the pack on her back.

Manning had given the head into Elfraine's keeping to ensure the prince did in fact take her with him to the Troll Market. It was an astute move on the part of the Director because Nuada had indeed planned on going without her anyway. But it was also another black mark against him, and it was duly added to the growing list of things Nuada swore Tom Manning would pay for.

Praying for patience, the prince closed his eyes briefly. "Very well, we'll go now," he replied tersely, as he snapped them back open again only to see Elfraine reaching for a sword, which was leaning against her desk, and a gun, which was sitting on top of the desk. She'd obviously visited the armoury to prepare for this evening.

"You won't need those!" he advised her harshly. It was bad enough he was taking a human to the Troll Market let alone an armed one who couldn't be killed.

Elfraine stopped and raised a questioning brow as she looked pointedly at the weapons strapped to his own back. "_I'll _be the judge of that," she informed him as she wrapped the sword belt around her hips and started to buckle it up.

"No," said Nuada with forced patience as he walked around the side of the desk and placed his hand over hers, stopping her. "_I'll_ be the judge of that."

But Elfraine wasn't having a bar of it, and she tried to shake him off. A short tussle ensued with the end result being that she lost her sword anyway, much to her annoyance. "But what if there's any trouble?" she asked obstinately, as she watched him place the weapon on a high shelf where she couldn't reach it.

"_If_ there is any trouble, _I'll_ take care of it," Nuada answered impatiently as he turned back to her. He gritted his teeth as he noticed she had the gun in her hands now and was trying to discreetly tuck it into the waistband of her pants. It too quickly joined the sword up on the shelf. "Make sure you keep up with me, and once we get there stay close at all times... and remember, _I'll_ do the talking. _You_ are not to say a word!" he ordered as he walked out of the room.

Elfraine could only thank her lucky stars she'd already tucked her dagger into her boot before he arrived. She followed after Nuada, calling out to him as she went, "Would you mind repeating that last part, Sir? I only heard the bit about keeping up and then I must confess, my attention wandered and I missed the rest!" She noted, with satisfaction, the slight break in his stride and the stiffening of his shoulders but he otherwise ignored her facetious request and just kept on walking.

**... ... **

Elfraine arrived at the gates surrounding the BPRD to find Nuada waiting for her, impatiently slapping his gloves against his thigh.

"I thought I told you to keep up," he snapped at her irritably as he pulled them back on.

"I did my best but you walk too fast, and I'll be damned if I'm going to _run_ the whole way there," Elfraine replied. "I _hate_ running!" she added darkly. "By the way, just how far is it to this Troll Market?"

Nuada frowned. It was roughly sixty miles and at the rate she walked, it would take days if not weeks to get there. If he'd been on his own, it would have only taken around an hour or so. With a snort of exasperation, he grabbed hold of her arm and used magic to take them there instead.

One minute Elfraine had been standing in Trenton, New Jersey, and the next she found herself under what appeared to be the Brooklyn Bridge. Blinking in disbelief, she turned to look at Nuada but he was already making for a dingy, dirty-looking building that proclaimed itself to be a meat packing plant, and she had to walk quickly to catch up to him. They entered the building and walked past rows of wrapped carcasses hanging from meat hooks. So these were what happy cows looked like, Elfraine thought cynically to herself as Nuada approached the rear wall of the plant and slid it aside to reveal the entrance to a dark cavern.

She followed him in and they made their way through a series of rubble-strewn passageways until they arrived at a large, round, strangely-carved door set into the side of a wall. There was a smaller panel next to the door, and it too had strange symbols carved into it as well as what looked to be a complicated series of locks. Nuada passed his hand over the smaller panel, and the door swung open to reveal a whole different world beyond it.

Elfraine stepped after him into a riotous scene of colour, noise, and movement. It immediately reminded her of the fairs and markets from her early days in England, and like those fairs this one appeared to be a busy mix of social and commercial activity. There were food sellers, cloth sellers, employment exchanges, and alehouses to name but a few of the myriad of businesses packed into every space in the market. Stalls filled with a dizzying array of goods offered their wares to customers, while dicing and cards seemed to be the popular forms of entertainment judging by the numerous games going on around the place. The only thing that reminded Elfraine she wasn't in sixteenth or seventeenth century England were the denizens of the Troll Market themselves; most of them were like no others she'd ever seen before.

"Come along, woman!" said Nuada impatiently, turning back to her. "Stop gawking!"

He then set off along the street at a rapid pace, and this time Elfraine did run to keep up. She didn't like the way some of the inhabitants of the market were starting to stare at her and whisper behind their hands, and she was fairly certain she'd get the telling off of her life if she got into any trouble now, never mind that she wouldn't be the one to start it.


	19. Chapter 18

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 18**

Elfraine did her best to keep up with Nuada but as she'd told him earlier, he walked too fast and she didn't like running. It didn't help that her attention was caught by the glittering wares of a jeweller's stall for several moments. When she looked for the prince again in the busy crowd, he'd vanished from sight. The alleyway branched in three directions, and Elfraine had no idea which route he'd taken. She was fairly certain though that whatever one she chose, it would be the wrong one so she decided to stay put for a while. _If_ he bothered to retrace his steps he'd eventually find her. If he didn't, which she told herself was more likely, she could at least find her way back to the portal leading out of the Troll Market; she'd learnt the hard way to always mark the trail. Getting the door open again was another matter entirely but she was reasonably confident she'd think of something.

In the meantime Elfraine looked for an out-of-the-way corner from where she could observe the comings and goings of the market. She found a small space between two food stalls and took up position. It was a good place to hide away and she might have escaped notice indefinitely except that a scuffle broke out in a card game across the alleyway. Elfraine couldn't understand a word they were saying but knowing how these things usually went, she guessed one player had probably accused another of cheating and they were now settling the matter with their fists.

As the combatants brawled around the street, the crowd moved along with them cheering them on, and Elfraine suddenly found herself right in the thick of things. Several onlookers tried to squeeze into her space in an attempt to get out of the way of the two who were fighting, and when someone backed into her and turned around threateningly, Elfraine found herself face to face with the creature who'd eaten her alive six nights ago... the cabalus.

She'd retrieved her dagger from her boot when the trouble first started, and she now held it to the creature's belly. "I've got a bone to pick with you," she began fiercely as she kept a wary eye on his sharp talons.

What she wouldn't have given for the sword and gun that were sitting on the shelf back at the BPRD, she thought as she silently cursed the obstinate elf who'd taken them off her and assured her _he'd_ take care of any trouble. Males, whether elf or human, were obviously all the same, thought Elfraine with some disappointment; none of them could be relied upon when it really mattered. She'd just have to ride this one out and do the best she could with her dagger. It came as a pleasant surprise then to find the cabalus was apparently as unhappy to see her as she was to see him.

"You!" the creature hissed as he stepped back quickly. "Disgusting human! Tainted flesh! You made me so, so sick!"

"Did I!" exclaimed Elfraine in astonishment. Quickly recovering from her surprise, she pressed home her advantage. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. It serves you right, you gluttonous creature!" She held out her arm and asked, nastily, "Care for another bite?" It was with great satisfaction that she watched the cabalus shrink back in horror.

"No, no, no!" he wailed. "You were so, so tasty. Humans – my favourite food. But you made me spew so, so many times! Filthy, rancid beast!" he spat out in hissing tones.

"Well maybe that will teach you not to eat humans again," Elfraine said shortly. "Perhaps you should stick to, I don't know, cows or - or chickens in future! And maybe you could try killing them quickly first instead of devouring them alive," she advised. "In case you didn't know, it's extremely unpleasant."

"No, no, no," said the creature slyly. "Prince Nuada, he said I could still eat humans... just not you, _not_ you." He licked his lips with his long blood-red tongue; he was starting to feel quite peckish. "Prince Nuada said you're the only one, the _only_ one who can't be killed, so not to eat you any more or I'd be sick, sick, sick again."

"Why, how _helpful_ of Prince bloody Nuada," remarked Elfraine acerbically, much put out by that little piece of information. He might have apologised to her for the original incident but he obviously thought nothing of some other poor, unfortunate person being subjected to the same hideous fate. Now she knew just how awful it was, she couldn't in good conscience turn a blind eye to the fact that others would no doubt experience it needlessly.

She gave the cabalus a sharp look as she told an outright lie. "What you and your precious Prince Nuada don't know is that I'm _not_ the only human like this. There are plenty of us around the place, and you'll never know whether you've got a good one or a bad one... well, not until it's too late that is."

"No, no, no!" screeched the creature. "Not fair, not fair! Noooo," he trailed off mournfully before giving Elfraine a look of hatred. "You tell lies, lies, lies! Wicked human! You want me to starve to death!" he accused.

"Not at all," replied Elfraine evenly. "Believe me or not... the choice is yours. But I'll be proven right sooner or later. It's only a matter of time," she bluffed as she looked him straight in the eye.

Anguished doubt started to show on the cabalus's face and as Elfraine continued to hold his gaze, he gave a snarl of frustration and looked away first.

"I'd seriously consider changing my diet if I were you," she advised him helpfully. "Now, be off with you. I've said as much as I care to say on the matter," she added as she dismissed him haughtily. It wouldn't do to let the sharp-toothed creature see she was secretly relieved things had gone as peaceably as they had with him.

With one last look of hate-filled rage in Elfraine's direction, the cabalus turned to leave. For over ten thousand years he'd hunted humans across all the continents of the world. He'd started on the savannahs of Africa, picking off those hunters who'd strayed too far from the herd, then he'd moved on to stalk the agrarian settlements firstly in southern Asia and then in Europe, lying in wait for farmers as they'd routinely tended their crops. And for the last three hundred years he'd prowled the large cities of the world in search of the plentiful pickings to be found in those places. He'd made many a delicious meal of humans but now, after ten millennia, he had to face the unpalatable fact that cows and chickens just might be his favourite food after all; at least they wouldn't make him as diabolically sick as the tainted human had.

However he wasn't going to let the miserable, poisonous creature have the last word. As soon as he was a good enough distance away from Elfraine he turned and pointed at her, and screeched out as loudly as he could, "Human!", and then he slunk away as the crowd forgot all about the brawling gamblers and turned its attention to her instead.

It suddenly occurred to Elfraine that she should have given more thought to Director Manning's suggestion she wear a disguise of some sort but it was too late for that. She could see immediately that the mood of the crowd had turned quite ugly as everyone stared at her now.

One figure stepped forward from the rest. He looked to be an elf, though of a different kind to the prince and princess. Whilst he shared their height and had the same golden eyes, his skin was an earthy reddish-brown colour and he had shoulder-length, coal-black hair. He wore a dark brown leather tunic, and black and brown trews trimmed with leather. On his back he carried a bronze crossbow and a quiver of bronze arrows, and at his waist was a bronze short sword.

For the second time inside the space of a week, Elfraine was confronted with someone who'd obviously taken an immediate dislike to her without her having even said a word.

"What have we here, lads?" the elf sneered as he circled Elfraine and mockingly inspected her. He reached in quickly and snatched her dagger off her before she knew what he was about. "It looks like a human... and it certainly smells like a human," he announced as sniffed her then gave a grimace of disgust, to the mob's great amusement. "And it bleeds like a human!" he exclaimed as he whipped out his sword and spun around quickly, slashing Elfraine's arm through to the bone as he went. Without even bothering to look at her, he turned his back to her and bowed to the cheering crowd. "By the Gods, it _must_ be a human! And we'll have some fine fun with it before we kill it!"

Another rousing cheer rose up from the throats of the assembled crowd only to be cut off mid-roar. The angry elf, as Elfraine had quickly dubbed him, froze as he felt something sharp poke him in the back. Turning slowly round, he found her standing there with one of his bronze arrows in each hand. He started in surprise; there was no sign of the wound he'd just given her.

"Why don't we each of us just mind our own business, and carry on our separate ways," she suggested evenly. "Return my dagger and you can have your arrows back."

His answer was a resounding clang as he moved like lightning and struck at the nearest arrow with his sword in an attempt to knock it out of her hand.

Elfraine was expecting something of the sort though and had turned side on to ensure he went for the arrow she was prepared to sacrifice. As it flew out of her hand, she quickly grabbed the other one with both hands and lunged in behind him to hold it threateningly to his back.

He froze again then turned his head to give her a look of pure hatred, unable to believe he'd fallen for her trick. She'd made him look a fool before his companions.

"Care to reconsider my suggestion?" she asked in a measured tone.

With a roar, he jumped, and in the flash of an eye was well out of her range and smiling nastily at her.

"Damn!" swore Elfraine softly. "Bloody cheating elves and their _natural_ advantages!" she muttered, conveniently overlooking her own unique if not natural advantage.

The ochre-coloured elf was closing in on her now and swinging his sword menacingly. "I _might_ have given you a quick death before," he informed her with a sneer. "But you _certainly_ won't get one now!"

"You wouldn't have managed to give me _any_ sort of death before, and you most _certainly_ won't manage it now," Elfraine commented dryly. She gave an inward groan though as she realised this was probably going to be _very_ painful. It occurred to her that perhaps she should just goad him into striking a killing blow then play dead until they'd all gone away.

And then she had no more time for strategising as he lunged at her and struck at the remaining arrow in her hands. She tried to hold onto it but his blow was too powerful and it knocked the bolt out of her grasp and onto the ground. Never mind, she thought as she looked at it crossly; it wasn't much of a weapon anyway without the bow.

Laughingly confident once again, the elf swung out and deftly sliced the fingers off her right hand as the crowd cheered him on.

She simply looked at him and shook her head in exasperation. "You seem to have missed," she informed him as she held up her hand. "See, all digits present and correct," she said mockingly as she wiggled her fingers.

"How can that be!" he exclaimed in angry amazement as the crowd fell silent once again.

"Maybe you're not as good as you think you are," Elfraine taunted. Pushing aside the disquieting thought that she was probably being overly optimistic, she decided the sooner he realised he couldn't kill her the sooner they could all go home, so to speak.

"Maybe I'll give you a quick death after all!" snarled the angry elf as he decided he'd be better off permanently silencing the insolent human without any further ado. He lunged forward and plunged his sword through her stomach, taking delight as she doubled over and giving the blade a vicious twist as he pulled it back out.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings," Elfraine said insincerely as she straightened up, "but you can't kill me or indeed do me any permanent injury. I'm immortal!" She gritted her teeth against the pain as she pushed through and healed, and hoped like hell that nothing of her struggle with the agony of the injury showed on her face.

A gasp went up from the crowd, and the red elf gave Elfraine a look of sheer hatred and rage as the air around her shimmered and all traces of the fatal wound suddenly disappeared. "What magic do you possess?" he asked angrily.

"You'll forgive me if I don't answer that question," she replied evenly. "You're obviously not going to achieve anything here so why don't we all just go about our own business now."

"I don't think so, _human_!" he spat out.

Elfraine felt a sudden shiver of fear as a particularly nasty gleam lit up the elf's eyes... and his next words made her heart sink.

"Maybe I can't kill you, but I'm sure we can think of something else to do with such a pretty morsel," he informed her with savage satisfaction.

**... ...**

And that was how Nuada found Elfraine. He'd been deliberately ignoring her, and had gone a fair distance before he noticed she was no longer with him. With a fluent curse he turned around and retraced his steps, hoping she had the sense to stay put once she realised she'd lost him. He cursed even more fluently when he noticed a massing crowd in the distance near where he last remembered seeing her, and he quickly set off in that direction.

**... ...**

Elfraine knew she was in a very tight situation. It was now clear to her that she wasn't only facing injury or death: those she could handle with relative ease. Inspired by the angry elf, several of the more belligerent members of the mob had taken up his other less savoury suggestion about what they should do with her, and he was now encouraging them to act on it. As some of them started to reach for her, Elfraine searched desperately for a way out and tried to keep her growing fear from showing on her face. Once they scented that, she knew they would be on her like a pack of hounds.

It had just occurred to her that Prince Nuada's name might be a handy thing to use at this point when speak of the Devil, she suddenly spied his tall form and white-blonde hair at the back of the clamouring crowd. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief which was sadly all too short-lived. One look at Nuada's face told her she was now facing a danger of an entirely different kind; he was more furious than she'd ever seen him before, and that was saying something. It briefly crossed her mind to run as he started to shoulder his way through the onlookers towards her but common sense prevailed and she stood her ground; there was really nowhere she could run to. Besides, he was not entirely without blame for the current situation she found herself in, and she had a thing or two to say to him about that.

Nuada had immediately gauged the ugly mood of the crowd. He pushed his way through to Elfraine's side and turned to address the mob. "This woman is under _my_ protection... and make no mistake, I _will_ punish anyone who even as much as _thinks_ of harming her." He glared ferociously at them, deliberately seeking the eyes of the individuals gathered before him, and most of them shrank back variously muttering something about having never intended her any harm at all.

The ochre-coloured elf however stepped forward, and he showed no sign of backing down. "Prince Nuada!" he spat out with disgust. "It's hardly surprising to find _you_ defending a human! You're their latest pet after all!"

"Stand down Ælfweard or I'll have no hesitation in killing you, friend or not," Nuada warned him harshly as he drew his own sword.

"You're no longer any friend of mine," snarled the other elf.

"Then it'll cost me nothing to kill you," sneered Nuada. He spun his blade in an intricate move of pure showmanship as he started forward threateningly.

The other elf stopped, and Elfraine could see the hesitation on his face. They obviously knew each other, and it was just as obvious that the red elf was reluctant to take on the prince.

"Take your filthy piece of human refuse then, _Your Highness_! It's not worth coming to blows over," bit out Ælfweard as he took a step backwards.

With a contemptuous look at the other elf, Nuada re-sheathed his sword and turned to Elfraine. He hadn't spoken to her or even so much as looked at her, and he picked her up now and threw her over his shoulder. The hilt of his sword poked her in the face and the edge of his armour dug uncomfortably into her stomach causing her to instinctively struggle in an effort to get him to put her back down but all he did was give her a sharp slap on the backside, much to the crowd's amusement. She noticed through the fall of her hair that his rough handling was actually lightening the mood of the crowd somewhat, and with a sigh she started to pound on his back with her fists. The crowd roared with laughter when she only hurt them on his weapons and earned herself another slap for her troubles.

Nuada strode off down the street followed by catcalls from the assembled onlookers, all at Elfraine's expense. His actions however had diffused the nasty situation, and the crowd soon broke up and moved off. He kept walking until he came to a side alley some distance away. Ducking into it, he lifted Elfraine off his shoulder and slammed her up against the wall of a building, trapping her between his arms.

"You were supposed to keep up!" he snarled at her with barely suppressed fury.

"Well, I would have if you hadn't taken off as though you had the Devil nipping at your heels," she snarled right back. Her head was reeling and she was in no mood for a telling off.

He pinned her against the wall with his weight and grabbed her neck with one hand. It wouldn't take much to snap it, and though she'd recover quickly enough it would certainly make him feel better for a while, he thought nastily. "Can't you do _anything_ you're told?" he ground out instead, as he struggled to rein in his temper.

"Can't you listen to anyone _other_ than yourself?" Elfraine shot back. "I _told_ you I couldn't match your pace! The fault is entirely _yours_!"

"How dare you speak to me like that!" he growled fiercely as his eyes burned with a fiery golden rage, and his temper threatened to slip its reins entirely. His hand tightened reflexively on her neck.

"You can bluster all you like Sir but '_truth is truth, to the end of reckoning'_ no matter how much you might wish it otherwise," Elfraine replied heatedly as she attempted to prise his fingers off her throat.

"You are damn lucky you can't be killed or permanently injured," Nuada bit out, grabbing her hands in his free one and pinning them back against the wall above her head. "Your inability to follow a simple order would have meant certain death tonight if that weren't the case. You're reckless and stupid, and you put me to no little trouble to pull your worthless hide out of that situation just now," he said with vicious satisfaction.

The words stung and Elfraine was mortified to feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes. "There are things _other_ than injury or death that can befall a woman as I was so very nearly reminded to my cost tonight... all thanks to _you_!" she shouted. "_You_ disarmed me and left me defenceless... and I will _not_ allow that to happen again! And _you_ took off just as fast as you could, deliberately leaving me behind. I will certainly _not_ believe any future promises about _you_ taking care of trouble should it arise!" Elfraine tried, unsuccessfully, to will her tears away.

Nuada noticed straight away and he sneered at her. "What's this? Tears?" he asked contemptuously though in truth her words pricked his conscience and he found, to his surprise, the heat had suddenly vanished from his anger. He _had_ disarmed her and he _had_ said he would take care of any trouble, which strictly speaking he'd done though probably not as quickly as she might have liked. And he _had_ been ignoring her, and he _had_ been walking as fast as he could, knowing full well she'd have a hard time keeping up. In addition, he realised he'd been so resentful of her invulnerability to death or injury he hadn't even considered the other ways in which she might, as a woman, be susceptible to harm. Her tearful words penetrated his thoughts.

"Yes!" she was yelling at him. "Yes, they _are_ tears - tears of _rage_!" But much to her annoyance, her voice wobbled suspiciously, belying her claim of anger, and she took several deep breaths as she tried to summon up some much-needed fortitude.

Nuada looked down at her for a long moment then took a deep breath himself and released her. He stepped back and drew his sword.

Elfraine closed her eyes and flinched as she steeled herself for the blow.

He frowned at her and asked in a tone of exasperation, "What is the matter _now_?"

Her eyes flew open and she looked at him in disbelief. "Well I'm hardly going to grin like an idiot whilst you cut off my head... for all the good it'll do you," she muttered with a sniff.

It was Nuada's turn to look at _her_ in disbelief. "By the Gods, woman! I am not going to cut off your head!" he exclaimed. His dark lips started to twitch as he fought to hold back the laughter that suddenly threatened to overtake him at her foolish idea and the stunned look she now wore. "Unless you think you deserve it," he added wickedly.

"No, no!" Elfraine quickly assured him. "Um, what... what _were_ you going to do with your sword then?" she asked hesitantly.

He was all seriousness as he replied, "I was simply going to offer it to you for the remainder of this evening... so you could feel safer." So saying, he held the weapon out to her and waited for her to take it.

"Oh!" was all Elfraine could think to say as her eyes widened in surprise; she was otherwise totally lost for words and to her very great annoyance her tears threatened to well up again, this time in some sort of strange reaction to his unexpected... _kindness_. She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment then slowly reached out to take the sword from him, still not quite able to believe he'd be so generous as to offer it to her for such a reason.

However she paused as her fingers brushed against his on the hilt, and she appeared to Nuada to be engaged in some sort of internal debate.

She finally seemed to come to a decision, and looked up into his eyes. Biting her lip, she withdrew her hand and said cautiously, "I'd prefer to entrust my safety to you... if you don't mind, Your Highness."

"Not at all," he replied, feeling unaccountably pleased at the decision she'd just made and gifting her with one of his heart-stopping smiles. He re-sheathed his sword then offered her his arm.

Elfraine ducked her head in a vain attempt to hide the faint blush of colour that suffused her cheeks at that smile, and Nuada was hard pressed not to drag her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Instead, he sternly reminded himself that he had no intention of going down that path again, and simply waited for her to take his arm.

She placed her hand upon his vambrace, and they proceeded on their way in silence for some minutes... until Elfraine felt compelled to make a confession to Nuada. "It wasn't entirely your fault that we became separated, you know. I must share some of the blame," she told him.

Nuada raised his eyes skyward. "Are you quite sure you want to revisit that particular topic, madam?" he asked with forbearance.

"I'd only feel guilty if I didn't," she replied resolutely. "And you deserve the truth," she added nobly.

"Very well then. What did you do?" he asked with resignation.

"I may have lingered for a minute or two more than I should have at a jeweller's stall," she admitted. "But don't concern yourself... you can still take the lion's share of the blame if you wish. You _were_ walking very quickly after all, and I believe that _was_ the greater cause of what subsequently happened," she hastened to assure him.

"Well, that _is_ a relief," he remarked with irony as his good mood started to disappear.

"And whilst I'm at it I have to tell you I ran into your friend, the cabalus, before you happened upon the scene," Elfraine rushed on.

"Do you do this deliberately?" Nuada asked, eyeing her as though she was some strange new species of bug.

"I don't know what you mean!" exclaimed Elfraine as she shot him a look of surprise. "You'll find out next time you see him anyway so I thought I'd take the opportunity to present my version of events first."

"Oh, so there's more than one version, is there," he remarked snidely.

"Isn't there always?" responded Elfraine, a little surprised he could be so naive as to think otherwise.

"Just get it over and done with," he replied with exasperation.

"Well the thing is, I don't think he'll ever eat another human again!" she informed him with great satisfaction. "I believe his tastes now run to... cows and chickens."

"Madam, no more confessions if you please," said Nuada tersely as he scowled at her. He really _didn't_ want to know how she'd managed that one.

"Oh, there _are_ no more, Sir... as far as you're concerned," Elfraine assured him with a friendly smile. She was glad she'd made peace with her conscience on those two counts at least though she felt a twinge of worry at just how pleased she was to be on such apparently good terms with the Elven prince for a change.

Nuada sternly reminded himself, yet again, of all the reasons why he shouldn't return her good-natured look and, to Elfraine's disappointment, he simply glared at her instead; she'd been rather hoping for another smile from him.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

'Truth is truth, To the end of reckoning' – Shakespeare, _Measure for Measure_, Act V, Scene 1.


	20. Chapter 19

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 19**

Nuada and Elfraine proceeded through the Troll Market without further incident and they eventually reached a book shop. He paused briefly to give her a sharp look. "Remember, you are not to say a word," he cautioned sternly before entering.

Elfraine followed him as the bell over the door rang them into the shop with a clear, light tinkling sound. She looked on in delight as a pretty young woman, about three feet high, stepped out from behind the counter to greet them. She recognised her as a pixie; she'd seen one once in the Scottish Highlands, a long time ago.

"Your Highness," said the woman in their own language as she curtsied. Straightening up, she took a closer look at Elfraine and started in fear. "A human!" she exclaimed.

"She's with me," Nuada hastened to reassure her, answering in the same language. "She won't cause any trouble," he added in English, with a hard look at Elfraine. His words, rather than Elfraine's friendly look, reassured the pixie. Nuada switched to Gaelic once again as he turned back to her and said, more pleasantly, "How did you fare with your enquiries?"

"I was about to shut up shop, and go visit my source to find out if she was able to come up with anything," the pixie replied. "Perhaps you'd like to come with me, Sir," she suggested nervously.

"Yes, that's a good idea," said Nuada approvingly. "As it turns out, I have another couple of enquiries to make, and I hope your friend can help with those as well. Lead on, if you please," he said as he gave her a lazy smile and politely gestured for her to precede him.

"And you too, Miss Somerled," he added in a harder voice as he stood aside for her.

No more smiles for me tonight then, thought Elfraine as they made their way down the alley. The Elven prince certainly appeared to be recovering his form and the good terms they'd been on were obviously at an end. It was just as well at least _he_ had some sense, she decided; her own had fled entirely. She'd noticed the pixie's shy blush in response to Nuada's smile, and it mortified her to think she'd behaved similarly when he'd smiled at _her_ earlier. And as for her response to him that morning... well, she didn't even want to think about that. Had she been wearing skirts, he could have had them up over her head and she doubted she would have done anything to stop him. Still, those reactions could at least be dismissed as mere physical attraction: all very well and good but ultimately meaning nothing beyond the moment.

Less easily dismissed was the feeling that had overcome her when he'd offered her his sword. His gesture, regardless of what prompted it, had touched her in a way she could well do without. She had her own affairs to see to and she couldn't afford to be distracted by anyone or anything. If matters worked out as she expected once she found her map, she wouldn't be long for this world and she didn't want to leave it with any more regrets than she already had. Elfraine glanced up at Nuada as they walked along the alleyway. She really had to make more of an effort to maintain the distance between them she reminded herself sternly, and getting her unruly feelings under control would be a good place to start.

... ...

The pixie proceeded along a series of narrow, winding alleys before coming to a stop outside a dimly-lit curio shop that was tucked away in a quieter corner of the Troll Market. She stopped and turned to Nuada, saying in English, "I'll introduce you to the elf-witch who owns this shop. She's my source and if she doesn't know the answers to your questions, no one will – she's a wise woman, a seer." With that, she walked into the store, and Nuada and Elfraine followed her.

The only light in the shop came from the flames of a large, brightly burning brazier standing in one corner, and Elfraine found it difficult to make out anything at first. But as her eyes adjusted to the light and shadows, she saw a tall figure standing by the counter. The figure stepped forward to greet them and Elfraine saw it was an old elven woman. Her hair and skin were the hues of the earth and forests, and a shiver ran along the length of Elfraine's spine as she fancied she could see the knowledge of the ages in the old woman's sharp mahogany-coloured eyes. Although she put it down to a trick of the light, she didn't imagine there was any secret that could remain hidden for long from such a gaze.

The pixie performed the introductions in Gaelic. "Your Royal Highness, Prince Nuada, permit me to introduce to you, Máistreás Gràinne na Cinn Aosta.

On hearing her name, Nuada looked surprised. Over the years he'd heard talk of the _cailleach feasa_ every once in awhile but she had left her people long before he was born and consequently, he'd never met her. Legend had it that she'd suffered a terrible loss in her youth and had set out on a quest to learn all the ways of the magic of the world in order to assuage her grief. From the occasional tales he'd heard, she was counted amongst the most knowledgeable and skilled practitioners of their arts.

He acknowledged the introduction now, saying respectfully, "Your reputation precedes you, Máistreás Gràinne. I am honoured to meet you."

The elf-witch inclined her head regally, and returned his greeting. "And I you, Prince Nuada. But who is this?" she asked as she suddenly swung her gaze to Elfraine and switched to English.

"She is no one, wise mother," replied Nuada quickly, with a warning look at Elfraine. "Merely a human who has accompanied me tonight." He too reverted to English.

Gràinne walked up to Elfraine and reached out to touch her face. She looked into the human woman's eyes and hissed, quickly dropping her hand. "No _mere_ human I think, prince," she said as she examined Elfraine closely. "I feel... but no, it can't be! There are no more dragons left," she stated emphatically.

"That seems to be something of a misconception amongst your kind," murmured Elfraine dryly.

"Be quiet!" ordered Nuada with a warning look at Elfraine.

"Considering I'm the current topic of conversation, I think it only fair I have my say too," she muttered mutinously.

"Stop!" commanded Gràinne, holding up her hand and forestalling any further argument. She reached out to touch Elfraine again and, being better prepared this time, didn't pull away.

Unlike Agent Sapien's brief but rather intrusive examination of her mind when they first met, Elfraine got no vivid or unsettling feelings from the elf-witch's examination, and she bore the older woman's touch with good grace.

After several moments, Gràinne dropped her hand. "So there are still dragons in this world," she said with joyful wonder. Turning to Nuada, she said, "There is hope yet." She ignored his questioning look and turned back to Elfraine to say in a not unkind voice, "You carry great sorrow and guilt in you, but you'd best be careful in your quest to lay them to rest. What you seek to do is foolhardy, and success is not at all assured... in fact, it is most unlikely."

The elf-witch's words sent a chill straight through Elfraine. She felt trapped by the other woman's all-seeing gaze, and she didn't know what to say for a moment. It seemed that only the truth would do in the face of a look such as the old woman was giving her, and Elfraine was most reluctant to acknowledge the truth. In the end though it was the only thing she could do.

"I'm well aware my chances are not good," she quietly admitted. "But I'm out of place and out of time, and I have to do it," she said, as her stomach started to churn with anxiety. Gràinne had obviously seen a great deal of what was in her mind because the old woman's words echoed her deepest fears: the fears she couldn't contemplate whilst awake, and which rose up to choke her in the quietest hours of the night. It was distressing and unnerving to hear them spoken aloud by another.

The cailleach feasa continued to stare at her for another long, uneasy moment then shook her head and turned her attention to Nuada once more. She started to speak in Gaelic again and Elfraine guessed she was no longer the topic of conversation. After unobtrusively handing the pack containing the stone head to Nuada, she began to look at the wares on the shelves in an attempt to steer her roiling thoughts and feelings into calmer waters.

"You seek answers, prince," stated Gràinne.

"Yes," said Nuada, glancing distractedly at Elfraine. He'd been pleased with how his resolve had stood up tonight, albeit he'd found it slipping when he offered her his sword. But he'd recovered quickly enough and hadn't done anything he'd regret. Now though, he found himself oddly disturbed at her sombre mood. He would have far rather seen her eyes flashing with impertinent anger than dulled with such a sick, anxious look as they currently had in them. His thoughts however fled at the cailleach feasa's next words.

"I have some answers for you, though I'm not sure they will do you much good," she informed him.

He gave her his full attention at that. "What have you discovered?" he asked.

"I'm sure it's no coincidence but your two questions are closely connected. The Rune of Odin was last reported to be in the hands of a minor churchman, a human named Guy Grosseteste," she informed him.

Gràinne was right; it was no coincidence, thought Nuada. The rune controlled the hounds, and the bookseller had connected Grosseteste to the shadow beasts with his last words. "Where is this churchman?" he asked harshly. He'd hunt him down and find out what he had to do with the dioltóir leabhar's death, and then he'd kill him.

"Ah! There's the rub," replied Gràinne. "He died over six hundred years ago and as far as I've been able to ascertain, the Rune of Odin hasn't been seen or heard of since", she informed him.

"What of his family?" asked Nuada.

"He was the last of them," Gràinne answered.

Nuada frowned with frustration as he wondered why on earth the bookseller had used the name of a human dead these past six centuries. There had to be more to it than the elf-witch had discovered but for now the trail was cold.

He looked down at the pack in his hand. Perhaps he'd have better luck with the stone head. "What about this?" he enquired, opening the pack and taking it out.

He held the head out to Gràinne, and she went to take it from him. She started in shock as her hands touched it however, and if Nuada's reactions hadn't been as swift as they were it would have fallen to the floor and smashed. As it was, he only just caught it, and he gave the cailleach feasa a look of surprise as he asked, "What is wrong?"

She looked at the head with some distress, and then answered him. "_That_ has recently been in the service of a very dark and ancient magic. I can feel remnants of its power still lingering within the stone. It... it _consumes_ itself even as it destroys others," she said, puzzled. "I... I don't understand. Why can _you_ not feel it? Where did you get it?"

Nuada wondered briefly why he hadn't felt the power in the stone head but without knowing more about it, that was a question he couldn't answer. Instead, he quickly told Gràinne about the unknown enemy the BPRD was facing, and about the hounds of Odin and the shadow beasts. "This head, and others like it, were in the BPRD building. They seem to have been used to spy on the humans," he added.

Gràinne could only shake her head at that. "I've never heard of these heads being used in such a way. They were made by humans many thousands of years ago but to use them like that is not something any human is capable of." She gave him a concerned look. "If you leave it here I'll see if I can find out anything else about them."

"Thank you," said Nuada. "Oh, and by the way," he added as he remembered the other thing he wanted to ask her about. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?" He held out the hard, white, opalescent object the cabalus had given him, and the elf-witch took it hesitantly.

She suffered no adverse reaction to it, and smiled as she turned it over in her hands. "I haven't seen one of these in a long, long time. It's a scale from a dragon. You may not know it but these were once much sought after for some of the more difficult acts of magic... before we thought dragons had disappeared from the world forever," she informed him as she handed it back. "And even then, they were extremely hard to come by. That's why they were so greatly prized and the secret of them so jealously guarded. Where did it come from?" She followed Nuada's look in Elfraine's direction, and raised her eyebrows in surprise as comprehension dawned. "Oh," was all that she said though.

Nuada noticed that Elfraine seemed to have recovered from her unusually quiet mood and he was surprised to feel a brief surge of something that felt suspiciously like relief. He dismissed the feeling and started to make arrangements for a suitable time to return for any further information the cailleach feasa was able to find on the stone heads. When Gràinne asked him to bring the human woman back with him so she could talk some more with her, he only gave a non-committal reply.

... ...

Whilst the prince and the elf-witch were talking, Elfraine continued to wander around the shop and she managed, at last, to quell her agitation. It was with genuine interest now that she examined the wares which were packed into every nook and cranny of the place. Along one wall were brightly-coloured jars of oils, powders, potions, seeds, and dried herbs and flowers while hanging overhead were bunches of fragrantly-scented fresh herbs and plants. Another wall contained candles, incense, feathers, shells, and what looked like small pieces of bone. The colour and variety were almost overwhelming, and Elfraine wondered how the elf-witch ever kept track of what was in her shop.

Glancing over at the counter, she noticed a cabinet full of amulets, talismans, and pendants of all shapes and sizes, and next to that was another cabinet containing what looked like apothecary tools and equipment. Elfraine was drawn to these and made her way over to examine the exquisite instruments on display. There were intricately-patterned scales for measuring and weighing, finely-wrought burners, delicate jars made of spun glass, mortars & pestles, wooden-handled cutting tools, brass herb crushers, and dainty silver measuring spoons.

Elfraine raised her eyes and saw, to her surprise, what looked like a beautifully-carved, wooden kaleidoscope sitting on top of the cabinet. Standing on tip toe, she reached up and took it down to discover it was exactly what she thought it was. She ran her fingers gently over the lightly-coloured, satin-smooth wood as she turned it in her hands. It looked to be very old, and Elfraine thought it would make a fine addition to her collection. For some reason, ever since she'd first seen a kaleidoscope almost two hundred years ago in London she'd felt compelled to collect them, and she now had quite an extensive array of the beautiful toys.

She lifted the wooden kaleidoscope to her eye and was utterly delighted by the sight; it was as if its maker had reached up into the heavens and pulled down great handfuls of stars to light up the enchanting plaything. Unusually, the mirrors were black and they made the star-like fragments shine even more brightly. Elfraine could make no sense of how the dark mirrors worked but they nevertheless achieved the desired effect. In fact, they made the vista far more expansive than she'd ever seen in such a toy before; the view was so wide and so deep it was as if she was actually looking at the night sky.

A small frown creased her brow though as she realised the pattern wasn't dissolving and reforming as it was supposed to. She lowered the kaleidoscope and tapped it firmly against one hand, hoping to free up the objects inside. However when she looked again the pattern remained the same. Several more taps proved similarly ineffectual and she took one final look at the glittering vista, feeling a little disappointed.

But as she looked, Elfraine suddenly froze and time stood still for her. As brightly as if one of the stars in the kaleidoscope had exploded, it suddenly burst upon her that she was gazing at the map she'd sought for so long and her whole being was flooded with a sharp, almost unbearable feeling of indescribable joy. Her entire existence came down to this one incandescent moment and she knew that for her, the end of time lay just beyond the sparkling jewels of light woven into the dark mantle of the kaleidoscope's mirrors. And with the end of her time she would, however so briefly, find a heart's ease and peace of mind she scarcely deserved. But more importantly than any of that, she would finally have her chance to put things right by her daughter... and she just might succeed, no matter what the old elven woman said.

As she stared into the kaleidoscope Elfraine thought that of all the serpentine paths she'd followed over the last four hundred years, this was perhaps the most mysterious one of all. She'd thought it good luck to get the assignment in the BPRD archives in the first place, and although it hadn't seemed like good luck at the time, if she hadn't met the Elven prince she would never have found herself here in this place, holding the very thing she'd been seeking for so long. It was a coincidence beyond her comprehension, and if she hadn't irrevocably lost her faith four hundred years ago she might have been tempted to put her discovery down to divine intervention. All she could think now though was that if there was any deeper meaning behind it she was unable to fathom what that might be.

Elfraine couldn't have said how long she stood there, unmoving and staring into the eyepiece. She supposed she must have been holding her breath, or maybe it was the sense of overwhelming relief at her discovery, but she suddenly felt faint and might have dropped the kaleidoscope except that a white hand reached over her shoulder and plucked it from her nerveless fingers. She whipped round in angry surprise to find Nuada standing right behind her, turning the toy over in _his_ hands now. Looking past him, she saw the elf-witch and the pixie staring at her. She'd forgotten all about the others in the room, and she silently cursed her lapse.

She turned her attention back to Nuada and tried smooth her expression into one of casual indifference but she seethed with a jealous anxiety at the sight of _her_ map in the hands of another. Something of her feelings must have shown on her face despite her best efforts not to give anything away. Nuada was now giving her a sharp, searching look, and she could see the suspicion in his golden eyes.

He lifted the kaleidoscope to his eye and looked into the glass. After several seconds he too frowned at the unchanging pattern and he looked back at Elfraine, puzzled wariness still evident in his eyes.

As he'd been talking to the elf-witch, Nuada had also been watching Elfraine and he hadn't missed a thing. He'd noticed the preternatural stillness that gripped her as she stood there staring into the eyepiece, and he realised she'd stopped breathing. He remembered the kaleidoscopes he'd seen in her home the night before. She obviously liked the things but she appeared to be _very_ taken with this one in particular, and he wondered what was so special about it.

"Why are you so interested in a broken toy?" he asked abruptly.

Elfraine had recovered her poise by this time and was able to answer casually enough. "Oh, I'm not. I had thought I might buy it but as you can see, it's broken. I'm disappointed more than anything. It's a wonderful-looking piece but it's a shame it doesn't work properly."

She directed her next words to the elf-witch with what she hoped was just the right amount of nonchalance. "However, if you're willing to sell it at a price that reflects its less than perfect condition, I might still be interested in purchasing it."

"No!" broke in Nuada sharply. He turned to the elf-witch and said, or rather commanded, "_I'll_ buy it. How much do you want for it?"

He told himself he wasn't purchasing it just to spite Elfraine; rather, he was proving he would not let her have her own way in anything without question. She still had secrets, and he was still determined to find them out. For all that she claimed it was a dragon's will, an immortal human just should not exist. And it was obvious she was up to something. The kaleidoscope might well be part of that though he couldn't for the life of him see how... yet.

If looks could kill, Nuada would have surely died in that instant. His earlier kindness in offering her his sword was forgotten as Elfraine clenched her fists in impotent rage and watched the elf-witch transact the sale with _him_. She felt like kicking him from here to the burning pits of Hell but there was absolutely nothing she could do.

The purchase being made, Nuada tucked the kaleidoscope into the top of the crimson sash tied around his waist and smirked at Elfraine. "We've finished our business here. It's time to leave," he commanded. When the pixie informed him she'd stay a while longer Nuada politely took his leave of her and the elf-witch then walked out of the shop, leaving Elfraine to follow fuming in his wake.

However her mind was working furiously and as she stepped outside, a sudden thought occurred to her. As they set off down the alleyway a slow smile spread across her face; she was now ready to name her price to Director Manning, and then she and Prince Nuada would do a trade.

But hard on that thought came another one, and a small frown quickly replaced her smile. She became concerned the elf might take it into his head to try and fix the apparently 'broken' toy and that, of course, was the last thing she wanted him to do. She wouldn't be trading anything with him if he really _did_ break the kaleidoscope. Instead, she'd be keeping him on a very short leash for a very long time no matter how much trouble it cost her. After all, she'd have nothing better to do if he ruined things for her now.

"Mind you take good care of that kaleidoscope," she said archly as she looked up at him with a sly smile. "You and I will have some business of our own to transact shortly, the results of which I think will please us both very much, and your satisfaction in the matter depends entirely on _that_ being in exactly the same condition as it is now."

Unfortunately, Nuada misinterpreted her words entirely. He looked at her with arrogant disdain as he said contemptuously, "You needn't think your body will be sufficient inducement to make me part with this!"

Elfraine flashed him a quick look of surprise, and then a mischievous grin spread across her face. She realised her wording was probably somewhat unfortunate, and her meaning open to interpretation. Now that success was within her grasp and she'd recovered her equanimity, she could afford to be generous and reassure him. "I give you more credit than that, Sir," she said as they continued on their way. "I'm sure you wouldn't be as foolish as to part company with it simply for a ride between my legs no matter how much satisfaction might be had from that. No, I speak of something else entirely," she informed him.

Nuada nearly choked, and he stopped abruptly. A streak of pure lust knifed through him as her blunt words painted an arousing picture in his mind. He could see her laid out naked before him, her eyes glazed with passion, her long hair tumbling over her full, firm breasts, and her legs wrapped tightly around his hips as he rode between them... with great satisfaction. And just to add insult to injury, he could remember only all too well the warm feeling of her soft curves pressed up against him as he'd held her in his arms earlier that day.

Elfraine frowned in annoyance at the sudden stop. "Come along, Sir," she said in an attempt to hurry him along. The sooner she got home and got to sleep, the sooner the next day would arrive, and the sooner she'd have her map in her hands.

Nuada clenched his fists and scowled anew at her, annoyed at the tormenting thoughts she'd managed to conjure up for him with only a few simple words. As Elfraine opened her mouth to speak again he put his finger to her lips. "Not another word," he advised her in a rough voice. Then he grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her along through the crowds as he swiftly headed back to the portal leading out of the Troll Market. The sooner this night was at an end, the better.

... ...

They'd almost reached the portal when Nuada suddenly stopped. Coming towards them from the outside human world was a ragged and tired-looking family of elves. There were three adults - two female and one male - and five children of varying ages, and they too halted when they saw Nuada. The adults hesitated briefly then shrugged off their packs and kneeled before him.

One of the women gestured frantically for the children to kneel, and all of them obeyed except for an older boy, who looked to Elfraine to be about sixteen or seventeen years old. Given the long lifespan of elves, she knew he might well be much older than that but he had the same headstrong certainty and damn-your-eyes bravado she'd seen in many a human lad on the point of becoming a man. He stood proud and defiant before them, and stared at the prince accusingly.

Nuada bade the others rise, and they did so. The elven man walked quickly over to the boy and cuffed him soundly around the ears, saying, "Kneel before your prince, you young cur!"

The boy gave the older elf a mutinous look and exclaimed, "I'll not kneel before _him_. He abandoned _us_ a long time ago!" The boy's words only earned him another blow from the older male but he continued on in spite of that. "He killed our king and left us leaderless! The elven court has fallen and is in disarray, and how does he help us in our time of need? He works for the _humans_! Who is _he_ that I should kneel before _him_?"

"He is the rightful heir," replied the other elf, but Elfraine could clearly hear the lack of conviction in his voice. He lifted his hand to deal another blow to the insolent youth.

"Stop!" commanded Nuada harshly. "Let the boy be!" Something flashed in his eyes, and he took a deep breath. "Tell me instead why you're here," he commanded in a toneless voice.

One of the females spoke up. "We've been forced off our lands, and seek asylum in this place," she replied.

"What happened?" asked Nuada sharply.

The elven woman gave Elfraine a worried look and hesitated.

"Never mind _her_," snarled Nuada. "Tell me what happened to force you off your lands."

"The humans living near our forest poisoned our waterways and took all the good water for themselves. They stocked their farms with far more animals than the land could support, and the waste from the beasts made its way into the groundwater and eventually fouled our own supplies," the elven woman explained. "And they take any water that isn't spoiled and use it on their pastures, with no regard for who else might also need it. They encroach on our forest every day and it can no longer produce enough food to feed us. We have no option but to try our luck here. This is our last hope before we starve to death," she added as she gave the elven prince a look of desperate expectation.

Nuada turned his head away, unable to meet the gazes of any of the group before him. He was silent for several moments and then he spoke. "You've held out longer than most but it's a familiar story. I can only wish you luck here," he said flatly. Then he stepped aside and gestured for the family to continue on its way. They picked up their packs and with one last despairing look at Nuada, continued on their way.

Elfraine watched them with concern as they walked off; she knew what it was like to starve and worse yet, what it was like to see your children starve. She also knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of a look such as the one the elven family gave Nuada before they carried on their way. Her own daughter had given her such a look almost four hundred years ago... the last time she ever saw her on this earth.

Nuada stared after the family as they made their way further into the Troll Market, and Elfraine drew a sharp breath at the terrible expression on his own face. She had to avert her eyes; she felt like an intruder or worse yet, a voyeur. She'd caught him in an unguarded moment, and she knew it would be very much against his will - as indeed it was against hers - that she could see so much of his anguish and guilt... and worst of all, something that held a hint of what she could only describe as defeat.

When the family finally disappeared from sight, Nuada turned and started for the portal. He didn't look at Elfraine or speak to her, and she followed him quietly out into the human world. It was silent and still in the empty street, and he grabbed her arm and transported them to the steps of her building. He then walked away without a word or a backward glance, and for the second time in as many nights Elfraine had a troubled expression on her face as she watched him disappear into the cold darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<br>**

Máistreás Gràinne na Cinn Aosta: (Irish Gaelic) Mistress Gràinne of the Old Ones.**  
><strong>

Cailleach feasa: (Irish Gaelic) wise woman, fortune teller.


	21. Chapter 20

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. or any of Dylan Thomas's work – see part of poem 'Do not go gentle into that good night' quoted at end of chapter (Google for full text). The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 20**

Although always careful in her appearance, Elfraine was more meticulous than usual when she dressed for work the next day. She'd need every advantage possible in her upcoming meeting with Director Manning. Though he'd proved fairly amenable so far, she knew these particular negotiations were going to be challenging to say the least. Manning was unlikely to just hand over the rune stone binding the Elven prince simply because she'd decided it was the price for her services over and above those set out in the archives contract. He'd likely need far more persuading than that.

With one last appraising look in the mirror, Elfraine decided she was as well turned out as she could be. The ruby-coloured shift dress she'd chosen suited her deep brown hair and pale skin perfectly, and a light-weight lacy black jacket, simple antique-gold jewellery and low-heeled black courts completed the outfit. She threw on her coat, grabbed her bag, and went downstairs to meet the taxi she'd ordered to take her to work that morning.

As the taxi drove along the city streets, she focused on her upcoming meeting with the Director. She'd texted him to set it up when she returned home the night before and he'd replied that morning, confirming her suggested time of nine o'clock. Acting on a flash of inspiration, she got the taxi to make a brief stop at a coffee cart on the outskirts of the park below the BPRD. She'd called in there a couple of times on the way to work, and knew they made wonderful coffee. Once back in the taxi, she looked down at the two drinks in her hands; she was as ready as she'd ever be.

**... ...**

As she was ushered into his office by his secretary, Elfraine was brought up short though by the sight of the Director tucking into a large piece of what appeared to be chocolate-iced banana cake, with great enthusiasm. He'd just taken a bite, and it took him a few moments to chew and swallow his mouthful.

"Forgive me, Miss Somerled," he said when he was able to speak again. "Late breakfast," he added by way of explanation as he wiped his hands and mouth on a paper serviette.

Elfraine raised her brow at that. "_Unhealthy_ breakfast, don't you mean," she remarked dryly as she walked over to his desk and handed him his coffee. "Perhaps you'd like to wash it down with this sir."

"Oh... thanks," he responded in surprise as he took the cup. "That's very thoughtful of you. Please, take a seat," he invited before he took a mouthful. "Hmmm, that's great coffee! Yeah, I know cake for breakfast is no good for you but the cafe just baked one fresh this morning and I couldn't resist – it's my favourite," he said as he fondly eyed the remainder of the cake with a look of pure and simple enjoyment.

That look caught Elfraine unawares and she suffered a nasty jolt to her conscience as she realised this was likely to be the last time Director Manning ever enjoyed chocolate-iced banana cake again. She had no doubt once she'd completed her trade with Nuada later in the day, one of the first things he'd do was put a quick, or maybe not so quick end to the Director. She ruthlessly ignored the wave of pity that suddenly washed over her at the thought. Whatever happened to Manning afterwards was not her concern, she reminded herself though she wished now she hadn't had this one small glimpse of him as something other than the dull bureaucrat he otherwise appeared to be. The Director was speaking again and Elfraine turned her attention to his words.

"Anyway," Manning was saying. "What did you want to discuss?" There was a hint of suspicion in his voice as he glanced down at the coffee Elfraine had bought him. He'd already noticed she was looking particularly lovely today, and he had the sudden feeling he was being softened up for something. Her next words confirmed that feeling.

"I've decided on my price Director... for my 'consulting' duties," she replied. She took a sip of her own coffee and waited for his response.

"And just what do you want, Miss Somerled?" asked Manning with confident assurance. She'd find he played hardball in negotiations like this, and wouldn't be swayed by either a well-turned out woman _or_ free coffee... even if it was _very_ good coffee, he thought as he leaned back in his chair and raised the plastic cup to his lips.

"I want the rune stone you're using to bind Prince Nuada," she stated baldly.

Manning choked on his coffee and reflexively spat out the mouthful he'd just taken. It splattered all over his shirt front and tie, and he looked round frantically for something to wipe it up with.

Elfraine was at his side in an instant, dabbing solicitously at his chest with the paper serviette from his cake plate. "That was a bit careless, Director," she chided gently. "On both our parts," she admitted as she gave him a rueful smile. "I think I've saved the tie but I'm afraid you'll have to change your shirt sir. You do have a spare one here, don't you?" she asked, all concern.

"Yes, yes," spluttered Manning as he waved her off in annoyance.

"Well, that's a relief," she remarked as she took her seat once again. "My conscience can rest easy." That last was said as much to tell her conscience to be quiet as to make an apology of sorts to the Director.

"Yes, well," he harrumphed. "I'll change my shirt as soon as this _meeting_ is over," he said with a frown.

Elfraine gave him a moment to recover before she continued. "Well, what say you to my price, Director? Will you meet it?" she asked.

"No, Miss Somerled, I most certainly won't!" replied Manning emphatically as he eyed her with outright disfavour now. "Just how did you find out about the rune stone anyway, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Not at all, Director," replied Elfraine smoothly. "The prince himself told me about it," she explained.

"Oh, he did, did he?" returned Manning, with a frown.

"Why? Was he not supposed to?" she asked with interest.

"No, no. That's not it," replied Manning hastily. "I'm just surprised he told _anyone_ about it."

"Yes, he did seem rather embarrassed by it all. I think you might have hurt his pride," Elfraine remarked.

"Ha!" exclaimed Manning. "He's certainly full of that!"

"Yes, he is, isn't he," said Elfraine agreeably. There was a moment's pause. "So... the rune stone, Director," she started.

Manning cut her off sharply. "There's no point in continuing this conversation Miss Somerled, unless you have something else in mind. I'm _not_ paying you with the rune stone! That's entirely out of the question."

A look of annoyance settled briefly on Elfraine's features. "Are you sure, Director?" she asked sharply. "I can't see that it would be much of a loss to you. In fact, I rather thought you'd be glad to be rid of the thing."

"Well, you thought wrong Miss Somerled. I have no intention of giving up the rune stone," replied Manning with an air of finality.

"I see," said Elfraine. There was a pause and then she added, with reluctant resignation, "You've put me on the back foot somewhat sir. I was quite convinced you'd readily agree to my price."

"You know what they say Miss Somerled," Manning informed her smugly. "Never count your chickens."

Elfraine dipped her head in acknowledgement of the old truism. "You have me there sir. I'm guilty of that very thing."

Manning gave her a condescending smile. "Don't feel bad, Miss Somerled. It's a trap people often fall into." He leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his coffee, feeling much better now he had the upper hand and was in control again.

Elfraine sighed. "Ah well, in the face of such unwavering determination I'll suppose I'll just _have_ to decide on another price then," she said in a dispirited tone as she finished off the last of her own coffee and stood to leave. "Hopefully it'll be one we can both agree on," she added with another rueful smile.

Manning pushed back his chair and politely stood as she crossed over to the door. "The standard rate of pay for field agents is still on the table if you have trouble thinking of anything else," he reminded her hopefully.

As she grasped the door handle, Elfraine turned back to him and said, with a small smile, "I'll bear that in mind, Director." She paused for a moment, and then addressed him in a soft, thoughtful voice as her expression suddenly became serious. "I must say, you're a very brave man, Tom Manning." Then she turned back to the door and opened it.

Tom Manning preened for all of two seconds before the full import of Elfraine's words struck him. "What do you mean?" he asked sharply, as a sudden rush of dread grabbed hold of his gut and twisted hard. Her comment played on his very real fear he'd made a bad move in using the rune stone to force the elf's oath and allegiance. He'd had a nasty suspicion almost since the start, that the rune stone was only a tenuous restraint on the prince at best, and Elfraine's words now only seemed to confirm that suspicion.

"It was simply an observation Director. I'm sure I don't need to spell out to _you_ the risks of possessing the rune stone," she assured him as she stopped and turned to face him once again. "You have my greatest respect sir. If I _wasn't_ immortal and I _could_ be killed, I wouldn't have that stone for the world." She gave him another brief smile and turned back to the open door.

"Um, why is that?" asked Manning urgently. "Did the prince say something else to you when he told you about it?" The Director was beyond scared now; he _wasn't_ immortal and he most certainly _could_ be killed.

Elfraine closed the door quietly. She allowed a small, hard smile to briefly touch her lips before she turned back to him. "Well, I hesitate to mention it because it sounds so... awful," she replied with a slight frown.

"Go on," he urged. "I'd rather hear it."

"There... there was _some_ talk of there not... of there not being much left of you to bury... once he discovers how to break the power of the rune stone," Elfraine informed him with great diffidence. She accompanied her words with a small shudder of distaste.

Director Manning blanched alarmingly, and was momentarily struck speechless.

Elfraine waited patiently for him to recover his equilibrium before adding, "I believe he's very close to making that discovery... at least that's what I gathered when he told me about the stone. Something was said about it not taking him very long."

Manning went even whiter. "That's most... concerning," he muttered. He glanced down at his desk for a long, thoughtful moment before looking back up at Elfraine sharply. "Assuming I agreed to your price, what would stop the prince from killing me anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

Up until now her responses had been entirely truthful, except that the Director needn't know it was _she_ who'd made those comments rather than Nuada. However it was time to embellish things a little.

"He said something along the lines of... let me see, whoever held the rune stone would feel the weight of his wrath once he'd broken its infernal power... or was it accursed power? Hmmm... never mind. I'm sure you get the gist," she replied with a delicate shrug of her shoulders. That sounded like the sort of thing the prince _might_ say, Elfraine thought.

"I didn't get the impression he held any _personal_ animosity towards you," she continued, as imagination swiftly descended into outright dishonesty. "All his anger seems to be directed at whoever holds the rune stone and of course, that person may or may not be you, Director."

Manning was silent for several moments as he chewed over her words but he wasn't ready to capitulate just yet. "Why do _you_ want the rune stone, Miss Somerled?" he asked with a frown.

Damn, thought Elfraine. He would ask that. She had an answer prepared but it didn't seem like a very plausible one. However it was all she had and it would have to do.

"The question of my fee has vexed me sorely these last two days, Director. I have everything I want and I don't especially need any more money, though I'll admit it always comes in handy. It occurred to me last night there _was_ some small thing I could gain from this though. The prince has been most discourteous to me from the moment we met. I want the stone so I can compel some manners from him," Elfraine replied, hoping against hope Manning would swallow her patently feeble answer. "At least he won't be able to kill me for using it against him," she added persuasively.

Luck was with Elfraine but not in the way she'd hoped. They were suddenly interrupted by a commotion in the outer office, and the same Elven prince they'd just been discussing pushed his way into the room past the secretary who hadn't even bothered trying to explain the Director already had someone with him.

"Manning, you _will_ give me answers if I have to _cut_ them out of you!" snarled Nuada as he made straight for the Director.

Manning leapt to his feet in alarm.

Nuada stopped short as he saw Elfraine. "_You_ are finished here," he bit out tersely as he hauled her to her feet and dragged her towards the door. "And if you don't go quietly, I'll pick you up and _throw_ you out!" he added menacingly as Elfraine struggled to escape his grasp. His hard golden eyes glittered with unnerving anticipation, and she quickly stopped trying to fight against him.

However Nuada's distraction with her gave Manning enough time to grab the rune stone out of his jacket pocket, and draw his gun from its holster. "Um, let Miss Somerled go... Your Highness," he said hesitantly as he held them out in front of him.

Nuada whipped round to skewer Manning with a cold look of deadly fury however he had no choice but to release Elfraine.

The Director took a nervous gulp and continued on. "Ah, Miss Somerled and I haven't finished our meeting yet. If... um, if you want to make an appointment with my... my secretary..." he trailed off, unable to continue in the face of the prince's unwavering and utterly terrifying stare. Instead, he held out the stone just a little further, and gestured to the door with his gun.

With a curse, Nuada spun around and pushed past Elfraine as he left the room.

Manning almost collapsed with relief.

"Well, that just proves what I said about his manners," remarked Elfraine evenly as she straightened her jacket and smoothed down her sleeves. "Do you have an answer for me, Director?" she asked once more. Secretly, she was absolutely delighted; she couldn't have done better if she'd organised the prince's intrusion herself.

"Uh, yes, Miss Somerled," replied Manning with alacrity. "I'll pay you with the rune stone." It suddenly seemed like a _very_ good idea to be rid of the thing just as quickly as possible.

As he looked down at the stone he had a moment of doubt though; he hoped like hell he was actually choosing the _lesser_ of two evils. But the prince's fierce visage flashed before his eyes and he ignored his feeling of apprehension. "There's also a spell with it," he said as he retrieved a small, folded piece of parchment from his jacket pocket_**. **_"You'll need to recite the spell as you hold him in the thrall of the stone. That just means you hold the stone out in front of him and it should keep him quiet long enough for you to say the spell. Apparently the stone and spell are made so they work only on the prince."

"Only on him!" repeated Elfraine with surprise as she walked over and took them from him.

"Yes," replied Manning shortly. "And you can only use them to make him give his allegiance to you, and forswear his vengeance... oh, and to hold him at bay like I did just now. To make the bonds unbreakable you give a promise in return. I promised his sister would be safe at the BPRD."

"That's... interesting," remarked Elfraine in a thoughtful tone of voice.

"I don't think you'll be able to use the rune stone and the spell to make him mind his manners," Manning informed her, almost spitefully.

"That's my problem Director," she remarked as she placed the stone and the spell in her bag. "Well sir, it's been a pleasure doing business."

Manning made no reply to that; he merely shook his head before he sat back down and stared unenthusiastically at what was left of his cake; he suddenly found he no longer had the appetite for it.

He made a forlorn figure sitting there in his coffee-stained shirt, and Elfraine was struck anew with guilt as she realised she'd ruined his enjoyment of what was likely to be his last ever piece of chocolate-iced banana cake, although he obviously had no idea it was going to be his last. She'd probably have to try and do something about that, she thought with a sigh.

"Director," she said gently. He looked up at her and she gestured to his shirt. "You might want to change that after I've gone," she reminded him.

"What? Oh... yes," he replied looking down at his shirt before returning to stare glumly at the remains of the cake.

Elfraine left the room, shutting the door quietly on her way out. She was now determined that Tom Manning's hangdog face was _not_ going to flash before her eyes in her final moments on earth; they were likely to be crowded enough moments as it was.

**... ... ...**

After being stymied in his attempt to get some answers from Manning, Nuada headed for the training room to work off some of his frustration and rage. However he was waylaid by Hellboy before he got there.

"Hey, prince, today's the day we get to interrogate that rouge agent the way _we_ want to," announced the demon with grim cheer. "You coming? Or are you gonna leave all the fun to me!" he smirked.

Nuada suddenly gave Anung un Rama his full attention as he was reminded of the promise Manning had made the day before. The previous day's session using standard BPRD interrogation techniques had been unsuccessful yet again, and it was now time to employ some more effective methods. He gave the demon a slow, cold, mirthless smile as he replied, "I hardly think so. Today's session will require a certain amount of finesse and imagination... both qualities you clearly lack!"

"Ha! This'll get the job done just fine!" replied Hellboy, holding up his right hand and flexing his fingers. "And a lot quicker too than your _finesse_ and _imagination_."

"You'll find you are wrong... as ever!" Nuada told him shortly as they headed for the interrogation room.

Two hours later they had all the information they were ever going to get from the rouge agent. Hellboy's right fist had nearly killed the man before he could even say a word, and Nuada then had to walk a very fine line between finishing him off and applying just the right amount of pain to induce him to talk.

In the end even Hellboy had to admit it was finesse and imagination that got the job done, and he was able to report back to Manning that the traitors in the BPRD had been working for the owner of Blackstone Castle, an ancient estate somewhere in the north of England. They finally had a name of sorts and the first solid lead in almost six months. With any luck they'd be able to find out who or what was behind the upsurge in paranormal activity that had started then, and put a stop to the strange goings on. And once they'd dealt with the light-devouring shadow beasts and sent the Hounds of Odin back to Asgard, they could get on with their own lives at long last.

... ... ...

Nuada looked through the open window of his rooms as the late afternoon sun gilded the tops of the trees dotting the grounds of the BPRD. Dark grey clouds massing ominously on the horizon told of a storm coming. At least the day hadn't been completely wasted, he thought grimly. They finally had something of substance to follow, and he was keen to set out for England as soon as possible but no doubt _Director Manning_ would decide when the time was right for that.

Thinking of the Director reminded him of his attempt to find out more from Manning that morning about the rune stone and what had happened when he and Nuala were resurrected in Ireland. It had been an abysmal failure and he still knew nothing on those scores. He was next to useless to his people while he remained bound by the rune stone, and his encounters with both his old friend - or rather his _former_ friend - and the Elven family last night only served as sharp and painful reminders of the urgent need to break free from it. Although it had been hard to hear, the Elven youth was right; his people had been adrift for the last four years, leaderless and in disarray. No one strong voice had emerged from the chaos to fill the void left by his father's, and his own and Nuala's deaths. But he'd been given another chance, and he intended to at least put that right now. His people would have a leader as soon as he was free of this cursed place, and they would _not_ fade... not while there was still breath in his body.

And as for Ælfweard, Nuada couldn't fault him on his attitude; he deserved every ounce of his old friend's anger and contempt. They'd fought side-by-side in countless battles against human foes, and the knowledge that his old comrade now thought he'd turned traitor to his own kind and pledged his allegiance to the proud and hollow enemy ate into him like a canker. But he recognised that it was entirely his own fault. He should have sought out such allies as Ælfweard when he'd first returned here. He had to admit to himself he'd stupidly let an insidious combination of pride and shame over both failing his people with the Golden Army and being bound by Manning dissuade him from that course, and as a result those few of his old comrades who were still willing to fight against the human foe were no longer sure whether they could trust him or not. That discovery, made during earlier visits to the Troll Market, had come as a bitter blow to him. It would be difficult, to say the least, to convince them of the true state of affairs now, some four months later. He hadn't expected it would take so long to break the power of Manning's rune stone, and he was still not even anywhere close to doing so yet.

A light tapping on the door to his suite interrupted his thoughts, and Nuada looked around in surprise; he didn't get visitors. Not being able to think of anyone in the entire place whom he'd be willing to talk to, he ignored the knock but it came again a few moments later and more insistently this time. With a growl of frustration he crossed over to the door and opened it to find Elfraine standing there, and he suddenly remembered what she'd said the night before about conducting some sort of business. He knew what she wanted but he had no idea what she thought she could offer in return. She was looking particularly pleased with herself however, and his eyes narrowed as he wondered what she'd been up to. He hoped it wasn't anything that was going to annoy him; there wasn't likely to be much he could do if it was.

"Forgive me for interrupting Sir," Elfraine said. She waited for his response but politeness seemed to escape him and he merely stared at her with those inscrutable golden eyes of his. "May I come in please?" she asked, with a hint of exasperation in her tone. "If you recall, we have some business to discuss."

Nuada hesitated briefly before he stood aside and gestured for her to enter. He looked at her suspiciously as she walked past him into the middle of the room and then turned to face him. She seemed to be waiting for something and he prompted her curtly, "Well?"

"May I take a seat?" she asked with a sigh. He was obviously going to be difficult.

Nuada inclined his head slightly and gestured to a chair by a low table.

Elfraine sat down and took a moment to arrange herself before saying briskly, "I'll cut to the chase."

"Please do," he said coldly.

"Very well," she said as she reached into her bag and pulled out something.

Nuada couldn't see what it was; she held it in her closed fist.

"You know what _I_ want," she stated without preamble. "What say you to trading the kaleidoscope for _this_?" she asked triumphantly as she opened her fist to reveal Manning's rune stone sitting in the palm of her hand.

Nuada started with surprise and was momentarily lost for words. She did indeed have something he'd give almost anything to gain. He looked from the stone to Elfraine and then back again. "How did you come by that?" he asked in suspicious astonishment as he raised his eyes to her face once more. A nasty sneer twisted his lips as he answered his own question in the next instant. He slowly looked her up and down, noting how she'd dressed with particular care that day, and said contemptuously, "I understand now why Manning was unwilling to have his meeting with you interrupted this morning. I take it you let him..."

"If you say another word, I'll _slap_ you!" Elfraine cut in tersely, feeling quite insulted. "I have thankfully never been forced to play that particular card for _anything_. And what's more, Thomas Manning would most certainly _not_ be my choice of partner with which to break almost four hundred years of celibacy!" She took a deep breath as she attempted to regain control of her temper. "To answer your question, in this instance legitimate bargaining, persuasive reasoning... and, I'll admit, a certain amount of liberty with the truth carried the day," she informed him indignantly.

Nuada merely raised his brow skeptically.

Elfraine rolled her eyes and said, with exasperation, "Believe what you will then Sir!" She was as much annoyed with herself as with him; his unflattering assumption about how she'd obtained the rune stone shouldn't have stung as it did. For the better part of the last four hundred years she hadn't given a damn about the world's opinion of her so it was annoying now, not to mention troubling, to find she _was_ actually concerned about his estimation of her in this matter.

She ruthlessly pushed aside her uncharacteristic disquiet and asked shortly, "Now, are you willing to trade?"

Nuada hesitated, distrust and uncertainty written clear on his face and in his eyes; he didn't believe for a moment it would be as straight forward as that, and he suspected a trick of some sort.

"I fail to see why you equivocate Sir," said Elfraine impatiently. "It should be an easy enough decision."

"Perhaps a little too easy," he said cynically.

Elfraine sighed. She hadn't expected to have to convince him to agree to the deal. "In the natural order of things, and assuming he hadn't been so foolish as to earn your undying hatred, how much longer do you think Director Manning might live? Another twenty or thirty years perhaps?"

"Make your point quickly," ordered Nuada impatiently.

"Even if you didn't work out how to break the power of the rune stone - and from that little scene in Manning's office this morning I'd say you weren't anywhere close to doing so – you would've only been tied to _his_ leash for another maybe thirty years at most, not even the blink of an eye in an elf's lifespan. If you don't make up your mind to my offer you'll spend the rest of eternity tied to _mine_, assuming you don't get yourself killed... again," she advised him curtly.

Nuada scowled fiercely. "You can be absolutely certain you'll bitterly regret it if you attempt to use the rune stone against me," he snarled viciously at her.

"I'll bitterly regret it if I don't do everything I can to get that kaleidoscope," Elfraine informed him, clearly unimpressed by his threat. "In any case, I don't understand your hesitation. We each of us have something the other wants; it should be a straightforward transaction."

There was a long silence as Nuada grappled with what she'd just said. Finally he spoke. "You know the value of the rune stone to me," he said tersely. "I have no idea of the value of the kaleidoscope to you. Why do you want it?"

"Oh, I see," said Elfraine as comprehension dawned. He not unnaturally wanted some idea of just what it was he was trading. She bit her lip as she wondered how much to tell him. The basic truth couldn't do any harm; besides, once he had the rune stone – and his freedom – she felt quite certain he'd be too busy with his own affairs to even think about interfering in hers.

"It's a star map, and I need it on a journey I'll be making shortly," she told him.

"What is the purpose of this _journey_?" Nuada asked suspiciously.

"Nothing that will affect anyone or anything else other than myself," replied Elfraine shortly. "You have my word on that," she added quietly as he gave her a look of disbelief. "I made a terrible mistake before I became immortal. The whole purpose of my journey is to do something about it and try to make amends if I can," she explained sombrely.

"What could you have possibly done..." Nuada started to ask.

"No more questions please!" interrupted Elfraine. "I've said as much as I'm prepared to on that subject. I would have thought you'd have your own concerns to attend to. It seems rather odd you're so interested in mine. Now, do we have a deal or not?" she asked sharply.

"Very well," agreed Nuada grudgingly after a moment's pause. He knew there was far more to her story than she'd said but there really was no other answer he could give; he was about to gain his freedom and more importantly, his ability to keep on fighting for his people, and if she wanted to keep her secrets then so be it. He retrieved the kaleidoscope from a drawer in a desk to one side of the room, and started towards Elfraine with it.

"Not so fast Sir," she said, stopping him in his tracks. "There's one other matter to settle before we can proceed. I've saved your sister's life at least twice now, and I'm willing to let you square her debt to me in return for relinquishing your plans to put paid to Director Manning's existence," she informed him.

"What?" exclaimed Nuada harshly, unable to believe what she was asking for now. "You expect me to spare Manning's life?"

"I do," replied Elfraine in a measured tone.

"No!" snarled Nuada. "He is going to die a very slow and painful death, make no mistake. I will _not_ give up my revenge against him!"

"Then you'll find we have no deal," stated Elfraine in a hard voice. She'd suspected this would be a sticking point with him; he hadn't struck her as the type to easily let go of a grievance.

"You've just told me how much the kaleidoscope means to you. I don't think you'll give up the chance to obtain it simply to save _Manning's_ life!" said Nuada derisively.

"Well, unfortunately for both of us that's exactly what I'm prepared to do," returned Elfraine. "I've discovered, to my very great dismay, that my conscience has some life in it yet. Unless you agree to the additional terms, there is no deal."

Nuada pinned her with a fierce, angry glare as he tried to determine whether or not she was bluffing. But Elfraine remained steadfast under his gaze and refused to cower or look away, and he realised he was well and truly backed into a corner. It seemed Manning's life was to be spared.

"Very well then," he bit out with bad grace. "I agree. You have no further claim against my sister now, and I will not kill Manning." The words tasted bitter in his mouth but ultimately, obtaining the rune stone was more important than taking the Director's life.

"Thank you, Your Highness," said Elfraine softly and sincerely. She realised it cost him a great deal to agree to the last condition and she was most grateful he had; she was heartily sick of bargaining now and just wanted it to be all over and done with.

Nuada merely gave her another fierce scowl.

"Oh, don't look so cross Sir," she exclaimed with exasperation as she took note of his expression. "You've only promised to spare Manning his life. That's not to say you can't _torment_ him to your heart's content," she added succinctly.

There was a moment of startled silence on Nuada's part and then a grim smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Manning might have been better off if you'd never bartered for his life," he remarked sardonically.

"I daresay you'll cause him to come to that conclusion," conceded Elfraine. "I think we're now ready to finalise matters," she said as she stood up and pulled something else out of her bag. "You'll need this too," she advised him as she held out a piece of folded paper along with the rune stone. "It's the spell that goes with the stone. According to Manning, both were cast to work on you specifically. The rune stone can only be used to force your allegiance to whoever possesses it, compel you to forswear your vengeance, and hold you at bay. The holder then gives you a promise in return and the bonds are rendered unbreakable."

Nuada frowned at that information. "Did Manning say anything else?" he asked sharply.

"Yes ," replied Elfraine. "He told me his promise was that your sister would be safe at the BPRD... which sheds a little light on the recent attempts on her life, don't you think."

"It does," agreed Nuada as they completed the trade. He'd be visiting Manning again shortly, he thought to himself, and this time he _would_ have some answers out of the Director, starting with who he'd gotten the rune stone from.

"Well, that's almost everything settled at long last," remarked Elfraine in a measured tone as she tucked the kaleidoscope into her bag. "There's just one other thing," she said as she glanced up at him.

"You are determined to test my patience madam," remarked Nuada as he fixed her with a hard look. "What else could there possibly be to discuss?"

"Something I hope you'll be happy to agree to," she replied with a small smile. "As I've said, I'll be leaving here soon, and what's more I won't be back this way again. I wonder if you'd look out for the dragons once I'm gone. They can't come with me, not this time."

Nuada raised his brow in surprise at her request.

Elfraine rushed on. "They don't take much to look after. You just need to check on them every now and again. The lease on my home is paid up for another year. I'm sure that will give you enough time to find somewhere else for them, and see them properly settled. Will you do it?" she asked with an anxious look.

"Very well, I will," he agreed, without hesitation. "I'll seek assistance from Gràinne, the elf-witch, with the care of them. But I do it for the dragons, not for you," he added quickly.

"Of course," said Elfraine with a wry smile. "Well, that truly is everything taken care of now," she remarked pensively. "I take it you'll be on your way tonight. No doubt you'll be damned glad to see the back of this place."

"Yes," replied Nuada grudgingly. He didn't want to engage in small talk and suddenly wanted her gone as quickly as possible. "As you pointed out, I have my own affairs to see to."

"So this is goodbye then, Your Highness," said Elfraine soberly. "We won't meet again. I'll be leaving in a few days myself. I wish you the best of luck with everything... not with your plans for destroying the human race," she hastened to add. "I think that's nigh on impossible, even for you. But I certainly wish you luck in finding a way through for your people."

She held out her hand to Nuada but he didn't take it; he was surprised by the generous wish she'd made for him and his people. Not knowing what else to say, he fell back on an old, familiar response and said coldly, "I refuse to shake hands with a _human_."

She rolled her eyes and quickly dropped her hand back down to her side. It was probably not a good time to remind him he'd actually _kissed_ it only two days ago, and done a lot more besides just the day before. "Suit yourself," she murmured.

Nuada stood aside for her and Elfraine went to leave but she stopped suddenly as she remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot," she said with a small frown as she hunted around in her bag. She found what she was looking for and pulled out a thin rectangular package, about the size of a book and wrapped in blue and gold paper. She looked at it and hesitated for a moment before holding it out to Nuada with a slightly uncomfortable expression on her face. "It's merely a small gift," she explained somewhat self-consciously. "Just something I hope you'll find some... I don't know... some value in, I suppose. Anyway, it's for you, if you want it... and it's given freely, without any conditions attached," she added with a hint of self-deprecation.

Nuada was at a loss for words; he found it hard to comprehend her gesture, particularly given his rudeness to her just now. He simply stood there unmoving for a long moment, staring at the package in her hand with a hard, puzzled look on his face.

As the moment stretched out uncomfortably, Elfraine wondered whether it would take anything away from the act of giving if she threw it at him. Deciding it probably would, she dropped her hand and put the package on the small table next to her, saying wryly, "Well, it _is_ a gift, and if you wish to jump up and down on it and rip it into a thousand pieces then that's your prerogative Sir." She gave him a small, final, almost wistful smile then left the room, quietly closing the door after her.

As Nuada watched her go, a frown settled on his face. He'd finally obtained Manning's rune stone - and with it his freedom - and he was now rid of the troubling thorn in his side that was Elfraine Somerled; he should have been in a better frame of mind. Instead, he found it an unsettling moment. Alongside his undeniable satisfaction at possessing the rune stone, there was his annoyance at having to give up his plans to avenge himself on Manning and, more disturbingly, a faint, empty feeling almost like... loss.

He didn't like the direction his thoughts were taking and in an attempt to shake off his strange mood, he swung his gaze back to the package on the table. After a moment he walked over to it and hesitantly picked it up. Turning it over, he cautiously removed the blue and gold wrapping, and to his surprise - though almost anything would have been a surprise – he found inside a beautifully framed and hand-written copy of a poem entitled 'Do not go gentle into that good night'. Elfraine had written the poet's name in her elegant script after the title. Nuada had never heard of him; indeed, he didn't have time for human poets. But in the hope it might distract him from his inexplicably disturbing mood he sat down in a chair by the window and started to read.

And by the time he'd finished the final verse, Nuada felt as if his heart had stopped and he could no longer breathe. The evening air crept in through the open window as the black curtain of night fell on the fading light of the day, and he sat there in the cold darkness of his room for a long time afterwards, silent and still.

_And you, my father, there on the sad height,  
>Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.<br>Do not go gentle into that good night.  
>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>References:<br>**'Do not go gentle into that good night' - Dylan Thomas, 1951. (Google for full text.)


	22. Chapter 21

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 21**

A loud clap of thunder broke through Elfraine's absorption with carefully plotting the kaleidoscope's constellations onto the chart in front of her. Looking up from her work, she became aware of the rain lashing against the windows and the fierce howling of the wind as the storm which had threatened earlier now raged in full force outside. She glanced at the clock on the wall in front of her and saw it was nearly midnight; the dragons would be going out to hunt soon and sure enough, over by the fire, they were starting to stir. Goblin, meanwhile, slept on; neither the movements of the dragons nor the wild weather without disturbed his slumber.

As they made for the terrace, Elfraine put down her pencil and followed the dragons to let them out. She opened the door leading to the balcony and held onto it tightly as the wind drove the rain into the room and then tried to snatch the door from her hands as it whirled back out again.

The dragons padded past her and stepped onto the terrace. They stood for a moment, heedless of the weather, and stared up at the lightning-forked sky. Then they unfurled their wings and started their ascent into the raging firmament, battling slowly against downdrafts one moment and swiftly riding updrafts the next as they climbed higher and higher into the wild, tumultuous night.

"Good hunting, my friends," murmured Elfraine as she watched them disappear from sight. She quickly pulled the door shut against the weather and looked over her shoulder at the sleeping cat. "I think you have the right idea Goblin," she said as she watched him warm his fur before the fire. He didn't so much as twitch a whisker.

As she turned back to the door to pull the drapes, a sudden flash of lightning illuminated the terrace for a split second. Elfraine jumped in fright as she caught a brief glimpse of the Elven prince standing beyond the door in the middle of the raging storm, staring unnervingly at her in the eerie blue-white glow. Just as suddenly it was pitch black through the glass again and she wondered if her mind was playing tricks on her now. As intent as she'd been on getting her chart drawn up, he hadn't been far from her thoughts that evening.

She hesitated for just a moment and then pulled the door open again to check whether or not she'd imagined him there. She quickly discovered he was no phantom conjured up by her mind; Nuada _was_ standing on her terrace, motionless and staring intently at her. He was soaked to the skin and mindless of the storm raging all around him.

"Will you come in?" Elfraine called out against the howling wind as she recovered from her surprise at seeing him there in flesh and blood.

There was a pause and then he started towards her.

She stood aside to let him pass and closed the door against the weather once he was inside. "It's a wild night to be abroad... even for dragons and elves," she remarked as she turned to face him. "You've only just now missed them you know... the dragons, that is. They're out hunting and won't be back until sunrise, or what'll pass for sunrise if this storm doesn't let up by morning," she added with a tentative smile.

"I know," Nuada replied as he continued to stare at her. "I didn't come to see them."

"Oh!" said Elfraine, feeling somewhat unsettled by his intense regard. She was not quite sure what to say next and as the Elven prince stood there, silent and staring, it became clear he wasn't going to help her out.

"Um, would... would you like a towel to dry yourself with?" she asked hesitantly as she gestured towards his wet clothes.

"Thank you," he replied, inclining his head slightly.

"I'll get one," she said as she headed for a cupboard beside the kitchen. As she came back, she remarked with the slightest hint of a question in her voice, "I hadn't thought to see you again."

Nuada paused briefly and then explained in a serious tone, "I wanted to thank you for your gift... and bid you farewell properly. I was not particularly civil to you this afternoon and I apologise for that. You... you took me by surprise... yet again."

"Oh!" exclaimed Elfraine softly. She was rather surprised herself at his admission. "Ah, you're welcome... and I accept your apology," she said with a smile as she held out the towel to him. He was trying to pull off his wet gloves however, so she draped it over her shoulder instead and asked, as she held out her hand for one of his, "May I help you with those Sir?"

Nuada looked up sharply and hesitated once more before giving her his hand.

Elfraine removed first one gauntlet and then the other. It was something of a struggle as the wet leather clung to his skin but she eventually got them off, placing each one on the kitchen counter as she did so. "Would you like a hand with your armour... or do you not intend staying long?" she enquired.

There was a longer pause this time, and Elfraine could see he clearly hesitated over how to reply. Then a look of resolve flashed in his eyes as he seemed to make up his mind to something, and he replied to her question.

"I'll stay... if you'll permit it," he said, holding out one arm to her.

"Of course. You're most welcome to," Elfraine acceded as she started to undo the vambrace. She got it off quickly and then started on the other one.

When she'd finished, Nuada removed his weapons and then Elfraine helped him with his cuirass. "You seem to know your way around armour," he remarked as she undid the ties.

"It's something a wife learns when she helps her husband with his tournament armour... or at least, it was when I was a wife," she said as she glanced up at him with a wry smile before returning to the final tie on his breastplate.

"Which was three times, as I recall you saying," Nuada remarked as he looked down at her bent head.

"That's right," replied Elfraine as she got the cuirass undone. "This armour is remarkably light and quite different from anything my husbands ever had," she commented as he took it off.

"It is faerie-made and is stronger and lighter than human armour, and of a better design," he explained as he took the towel she offered. He wiped away the rain from his face and neck, then blotted his hair with it. When he'd finished he handed the towel back to Elfraine.

"Please, be seated," she invited as she gestured towards the chairs by the fire.

Nuada walked over to the couch and sat on the floor in front of it.

"Would you like a comb for your hair?" Elfraine asked as she dubiously eyed the tangled mess the wind and rain had made of it.

A brief smile touched his dark lips as he saw her look. "Yes, I would, thank you," he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused gleam in his eyes.

Elfraine crossed to the other side of the living area and entered her bedroom, returning a moment later with a comb in her hand. She walked over to Nuada and held it out to him.

He made no move to take it but asked instead, with a lazy smile and half-lidded look that momentarily took her breath away and made her feel weak at the knees, "Would you mind doing it for me, madam?"

His request startled Elfraine and she hesitated for a moment as she regarded him with suspicion. "Not at all... if you trust me to," she replied, as she wondered at his strange mood. She lowered herself onto the couch next to where he was sitting on the floor, and taking a section of his damp hair, started to comb carefully through the white-blond tangle.

"What sort of men were your husbands?" asked Nuada. Though his tone was casual there was an air of tension about him as he listened carefully for her answer.

The question surprised Elfraine and she stopped combing for a moment. "How do you mean?" she asked as she resumed her work.

"I just wonder what sort of men you chose for husbands," he replied. And what they did to cause her to come to the conclusion it was foolish for a woman to rely on a man, he thought to himself as he recalled what she'd said when he discovered her and Nuala training in the storeroom the day before.

"Oh! Um, well, I chose neither of the first two – the Queen did that for me – and I showed such poor judgment with the third that... well, let's just say almost anyone else could have made a better choice on my behalf than I did," she replied cynically. She was distracted as she thought of her third husband, and pulled the comb through a knot with less care than she would have done had she been paying more attention.

"Argh!" growled Nuada at the sudden pain.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon!" exclaimed Elfraine as she was recalled to the present. "I didn't mean to do that."

"No matter," said Nuada as he rubbed his scalp. "So your Queen chose well for you with your first two husbands?" he asked.

Elfraine laughed at that. "No, she did not! Though she did better with the second one than with the first," she conceded. Her hand rested lightly on his head before she resumed combing his hair again, more carefully this time, and she continued talking. "The first one was promising enough at the outset but he soon revealed himself to be an idiot of the first order," she remarked dryly.

A laugh escaped Nuada at that. "How so?" he asked.

"The Queen arranged the union when I was fifteen," Elfraine started to explain.

"That is a barbarically young age!" Nuada interjected harshly.

"It's certainly young," agreed Elfraine. "It was even for those times. But it wasn't unheard of, especially if there were titles and property to be disposed of," she explained matter-of-factly. "A title and a dowry went with my hand and they, along with me, were my first husband's reward for some useful service or other he'd performed for the Queen. My uncle, who was my guardian, agreed to the union and we were duly married towards the end of 1595." She stopped combing for a moment as she recalled those times, and then continued.

"Things went well enough at first but my husband was overly ambitious and within two years he was no longer satisfied with what he'd gained through his marriage to me, foolish, greedy man that he was. Unbeknown to me, he came up with the astoundingly stupid idea of increasing his fortunes by plotting with the Queen's enemies to bring about her downfall thus committing high treason! And he did his damned best to drag me down with him." She paused again, as she remembered how truly terrifying her seventeenth year had been.

Nuada turned and, leaning his arms on the seat beside Elfraine, looked up at her as the silence drew out.

Elfraine noticed his look and continued on with a shrug of her shoulders. "You'd think a young and biddable wife, a good title for his children to inherit, and a respectable marriage portion would be enough for any man who'd had little else to his name... but it wasn't enough for Robert Chylton. Anyway, in 1597 he was quite rightly convicted of high treason for his crimes against Her Majesty, and he was hung, drawn and quartered in a public execution at Tyburn. His mistress, who'd also been involved in the plot, was burnt at the stake on the same day, and I, who'd had no knowledge of what the idiot was up to – and you can be certain I would have told someone _had_ I known ... well, I was given a private appointment with the headsman and his axe for the following day behind the walls of the Tower, and told I had my 'noble' birth to thank for the fact I wasn't to meet the same fate as Robert's poor, silly mistress."

Nuada looked slightly confused at that. "But if you had no knowledge of the plot, why were you sentenced to death?"

Elfraine frowned as she explained. "Robert had set in motion some sort of convoluted plan to implicate _me_ in his treasonous activities as a way to divert suspicion away from himself and his co-conspirators if they were found out. Well, they _were_ found out and it demonstrates the stunning breadth of his stupidity that he ever thought such an idiotic ruse would work, his death being conclusive proof it didn't. However that didn't save me in the eyes of the law. As was the practice in those days, I was allowed no witnesses or counsel in my defence and my guilt was all but a foregone conclusion."

Nuada gave her a look of what could have almost been pity. "So how did you escape execution?" he asked. "As I recall, you weren't yet immortal."

"No, I wasn't, not then," Elfraine agreed with a wry look. "My uncle - God rest his soul - refused to accept the verdict of the court and strived until the last moment to prove my innocence. If it weren't for his efforts on my behalf I wouldn't be sitting here today," she explained.

"How did he save you?" asked Nuada curiously.

"Well, the following day arrived, as it always does, and at midday I mounted the scaffold to stand in front of the hundred or so of my peers who'd gathered to witness my execution. I was utterly distraught as you might imagine and as I was held down on the block, awaiting the executioner's blow, my uncle fought his way past the guards and rode into the courtyard. He'd found a letter of Chylton's that proved my innocence, and the whole thing was adjourned. The matter was referred back to the Privy Council, and on further investigation my innocence was established and I was freed from the Tower. Had my uncle been delayed for even a few seconds..." She trailed off into silence for a moment before adding cynically, "Well, I had the dubious privilege of having the most efficient axeman the city had seen in many a year, and had he lifted his axe it would have been all over with me. My head would have been struck from my shoulders and held up so I could view my own body in my dying seconds... and my uncle would have been far too late."

Nuada was privately struck anew with disgust and contempt at the barbarity of humans towards not just his kind but their own as well, and he struggled to hide his feelings as he asked in a measured tone, "So you were then restored to your former position?"

"Hardly!" exclaimed Elfraine with a bitter laugh. "I was the wife of a traitor, and although proven innocent in the end I remained tainted by his treason. There was no male issue from our union and so the title and ancestral seat remained mine but my other lands and the majority of my marriage portion were forfeited to the Crown to pay the fine for my husband's treason, and I was relegated to the lowest position amongst the ladies-in-waiting at court."

"I cannot imagine you staying in such a position for long," remarked Nuada dryly.

Elfraine gave him a smile of genuine amusement at that. "You're quite right; I did not," she confirmed. "By the time the Queen arranged my second marriage, some two years later, I'd worked my way back up the ranks to somewhere around, oh... about a quarter of the way up the ladder I suppose."

"Not the top then," Nuada teased as a lazy half-smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"No, not the top," admitted Elfraine with a smile in return. "It took another ten years, and a different Queen, to come within striking distance of that lofty position, and by that time I'd been delivered of my daughter and discovered her to be dearer to me than any position at court could ever be," she said as her voice became wistful and a look of sadness settled on her face. "And so I was more than happy to retire from the field and leave the contest to more willing aspirants," she added pensively.

Nuada couldn't stop himself as he reached up and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "I'm sorry if my questions have brought back sad memories for you," he said quietly.

Elfraine was startled by his gesture. He was certainly in a more agreeable mood than he had been earlier in the day. "That's quite all right," she said as she made a concentrated effort to throw off her low mood. "I could have always refused to answer them. Well, that's one side of your hair done. If you'd like to swap places, I'll make a start on the rest." She swung her legs up onto the couch and scooted across to the other side of him as he moved along for her.

"So your second husband was a better one then?" asked Nuada as Elfraine started combing again.

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed. "He was _far_ better! _He_ was not inclined to treason and more importantly, in roughly nine years of marriage I didn't see him much above a half dozen times."

Nuada looked round in surprise. "Why on earth not?" he asked.

Elfraine smiled as she gently turned his head back round so she could continue with her work. "He was a soldier, and an explorer, and he always had his eye on the horizon," she explained. "Whereas Robert was only about ten years my senior, Geoffrey - my second husband - was almost thirty years older. He'd spent most of his life sailing back and forth across the known world and fighting in just about every place you could think of, and by the time I married him in 1599 he was well and truly set in his ways and not about to change anything simply because he had a wife. He'd sailed with Sir Walter Raleigh in 1594 when Raleigh searched, unsuccessfully, for a fabled city of gold in the Americas, and from that point on Geoffrey was obsessed with finding it. He soon ran through his own cash and needed more so he petitioned Elizabeth for my hand. My uncle was dead by then and as his only living relative I'd inherited all his earthly belongings, which included a modest but sufficient sum of money with which Geoffrey thought to continue his search. I was alone in the world and, as was the case in those days, would be better off if I had a husband... so the Queen granted Geoffrey's request and I was married to him."

"And then abandoned by him," observed Nuada darkly.

"Yes," agreed Elfraine cheerfully. "It really was most considerate of him. Life continued on at court as it always had except I now had the benefit of being respectably married. That pretty much put paid to the taint of Robert's treason, which had continued to cling to me."

"Still, for all the benefits the marriage might have conferred on you, your second husband sounds almost as great a fool as your first one," Nuada remarked contemptuously.

"Well, that's certainly one view you could take of him but he _was_ the father of my child so for that he'll always have my respect, and I'll speak no ill of him," Elfraine informed him tartly.

Nuada's only response was dubious snort. "You say the marriage lasted some nine years. What happened to him?" he asked.

"His ship went down in a storm on the Spanish Main sometime towards the end of 1608 although word of his death didn't reach England until almost a year later," Elfraine explained. "By that time my daughter was eight months old and Geoffrey had died without ever knowing he was going to be a father," she said as she stopped combing once again.

"What did you do then?" asked Nuada, looking up at her.

Elfraine sighed as she answered him. "Had Geoffrey not spent so much of my uncle's money on his expeditions, Fortune and I would have been reasonably comfortable in our circumstances."

"Fortune?" interrupted Nuada.

"My daughter," clarified Elfraine, smiling softly as she thought of her child. "She _was_ my fortune. I'd suffered two miscarriages in my first marriage, and in eight or so years I hadn't fallen pregnant at all in my second one. I thought I was barren and I'd given up all hope of ever having a child of my own when, at the age of twenty eight, I discovered I was pregnant. It was the last and best thing Geoffrey ever did for me, she said reflectively.

"But you were not well-provided for when he died," remarked Nuada with a frown as he picked up on her earlier comment.

"No, and that was the _worst_ thing Geoffrey ever did to me," Elfraine admitted as she resumed combing his hair. "I discovered there was nothing left and we'd been living on borrowed money for years. Within a week of the news of his death reaching London, I had his creditors dunning me for his debts and I was forced to sell most of what I owned to keep them quiet. With no funds and no more lines of credit available to me, I was unable to maintain my position at court. All I had was my title and ancestral lands, and even then I obviously didn't have the money to maintain the lands."

"But did you not have anyone else who could help you?" asked Nuada, his already dim opinion of her second husband growing even dimmer by the moment.

"No," said Elfraine starkly. "We were quite alone in the world. As a widow and a woman with no other male relatives, and no fortune to call my own, I suddenly found myself in a very precarious position. A fair number of those I'd called 'friend' disappeared just as soon as my straightened circumstances became known, and those who stuck by me couldn't afford to help for one reason or another... not that I'd ever have been in a position to repay them had they been able to."

"How then did you ever manage?" he asked as he tried to keep his tone even.

"I sold the last of my jewels and returned to Miles Cross Hall," she explained. "I'd hoped it would be a sanctuary for us but, oh, what a God-forsaken situation we walked into. Geoffrey hadn't put so much as a penny back into the estate. Instead he'd left it in the charge of an indifferent manager who'd brought it to the brink of bankruptcy. After three difficult winters and years of neglect, the tenants were starving and a good number had left... or died, and that was the situation I discovered when we arrived. We were just two more mouths to feed and having spent most of my life at court from the age of fourteen, I was next to useless to everyone there."

"I'm sure you soon remedied that," Nuada remarked.

"Not soon enough," she demurred. "The first year was the worst. A serious lack of money wasn't my only problem; none of the tenants trusted me – once again I was covered in the shame of a husband, this time Geoffrey's neglect of his responsibilities to our tenants - and I had no idea what I was doing. The wolf was always at the door, and I could barely find enough food each day to keep myself alive. I was still nursing my daughter, which was one blessing; I was able at least to keep her alive... though I tell you, I was never so tired or exhausted in my life."

Nuada reached up to still her hands then turned and looked at her. "How did you get through it?" he asked quietly.

"One of the older couples gradually warmed to me, or rather to my daughter, and started to give me advice on how to manage things," Elfraine replied. "Needless to say, I promptly and gratefully took it. After that the other farmers slowly started to come round. I put the last of my money back into the land - and believe me, it wasn't much - and after nearly four years of bloody hard work by everyone the estate started to produce enough so that neither my tenants and their children nor myself and Fortune had the threat of starvation hanging over our heads any longer."

"You've faced some hard times in your life," remarked Nuada with a frown.

"There are plenty who've faced worse," said Elfraine as her tone grew reflective. "And compared to what followed... well, everything until then was as nothing."

"How so?" he asked as his frown deepened.

"In the spring of 1614 - just as we were starting to hold our heads above water - the plague arrived in London, as it did from time to time. The rich and the titled fled to their country estates to escape it, and we had a veritable influx of company into our quiet little corner of England that year," Elfraine explained. She stopped, with a faraway look in her eyes.

"And?" Nuada prompted gently as she remained silent.

With a shake of her head, Elfraine continued on in a quiet voice. "One of the newcomers was a guest on a neighbouring estate, and we became acquainted." She paused for a moment before carrying on. "He was the answer to all our prayers and I thought him the love of my life. I was surprised and humbled when he asked for my hand – I'd been expecting a very different sort of offer from him – but within five months of being wed I knew him to be the most black-hearted villain that ever walked this earth." A look of utter sadness crossed her face and she was silent for a moment as she struggled with the emotion. When she was able to speak again, she said softly, "He... he murdered my daughter before my very eyes and I've not known a day's peace since."

"I... I am sorry," said Nuada, somewhat shocked, and he reached up to touch her cheek again with a look of concern. "Had I known you then I would have killed him for you," he added harshly.

"Why... thank you for your thought," said Elfraine, slightly startled and more than a little touched by the sentiment. "Be assured, I eventually took care of matters myself... as best I could."

Nuada gave her an enquiring look but she only said as she shook her head, "If you don't mind, we'll leave the subject of my third husband. I'll speak no more of him."

"Of course," agreed Nuada, more than willing to change the subject if only to see the sad look banished from her face.

Elfraine struggled to recover her composure, and in an effort to turn the conversation away from herself, asked, "What about you? Have you ever been married?"

"No, I haven't," he replied.

"Really!" she exclaimed, a little surprised at that. "Are you not at all concerned with ensuring the succession of your line?" she asked as she carefully set to work on the last of the knots. "Did your father, the king, not insist on it?"

Nuada gave a mirthless laugh. "You have a very pragmatic turn of mind, madam," he commented. "And in answer to your questions, yes and yes," he added. "I am well aware of the need to continue the royal line, and my father pushed for it on many occasions."

"But you were obviously not of a mind to oblige him," remarked Elfraine.

"I _would_ have obliged him - and myself - had I not been pressed on all sides holding the line against your kind," Nuada said in a hard voice. "The first half of my adult life was spent going from one battle to the next, and maintaining our army so it stood ready to repel the endless incursions into our lands by humans. I did not have time for a wife and a family... and more than that, if I was going to have children I wanted them to be raised in peace and not have to live their lives fighting a rapacious and relentless enemy as I had to... or face fading away as my father would have had them do."

He turned his head in surprise as he felt her hand on him. Surely she was not patting him on the shoulder... was she? Nuada didn't know whether to be offended or not; pity was the last thing he wanted from her. But when he looked into Elfraine's eyes all he saw was a quiet understanding and a glimmer of respect which gave him pause, and so he let her gesture go unremarked and continued.

"And then when I left the kingdom after my father's refusal to continue using the Golden Army... well, let us just say the life I led from that day forth was in no way fit for a wife and children," he explained in a harsh voice.

"And there was no one special in all that time?" asked Elfraine, feeling unaccountably sad for him.

"There have only been two women in all my life that I would have been honoured to call 'wife'," Nuada replied. "But both times circumstances intervened and my hopes came to nothing," he added bitterly before lapsing into silence.

Elfraine wasn't sure what to say but he appeared lost in his own thoughts and didn't seem to require any sort of response. She ran the comb through his hair one last time, saying, "There, that's your hair all done now."

"Thank you," he responded, though his thoughts were still clearly with the past.

Elfraine was about to stand and return the comb to her room when a ball of ginger fur rushed past and leapt on one of Nuada's boots, biting, scratching and kicking at it.

"Goblin!" she cried as she leapt to her feet. "Stop that!"

Nuada started at the sudden attack but quickly recognised the culprit. He leaned forward and grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and held it still on the ground, keeping his hands well out of the way of its swiping claws. "By the Gods!" he exclaimed. "That cat is determined to kill my boots!"

Elfraine laughed as she bent down to pick up the feisty feline and remove him from the fray. "He doesn't seem overly fond of them, does he," she agreed. Once she had Goblin safely in her arms, she scolded him as he swiped his paws at her now. "If you continue to be disagreeable and attack my guests I will have you neutered!"

Nuada could have sworn the cat understood every word she said as it immediately stopped trying to scratch her and let out a low yowl of distress. He had to admit to feeling a twinge of male sympathy for it in spite of its apparent dislike of him.

"Now, unless you want me to put you out on the terrace I suggest you settle back down and behave yourself," she admonished as she set the cat back in his basket and scratched him behind his ears. Goblin eventually quietened down though he continued to regard Nuada with baleful eyes and a slowly swishing tail.

"I should have had him neutered when he first turned up here," Elfraine admitted with a wry grimace as she turned back to Nuada. "But every time the subject comes up he disappears for days at a time. I don't know how but he really does seem to understand everything that goes on sometimes. It can be most unnerving."

"I doubt even neutering would improve his temper," Nuada commented as he regarded the impertinent creature with disfavour.

Goblin flattened his tattered ears back against his head and bared his teeth at the elf with a low hiss of warning.

"There, that's what I mean," said Elfraine. "I'll be damned if he didn't understand every word you said!"

"Well, let us hope for his sake he remembers what _you_ said a few moments ago," replied Nuada in a clear warning to the belligerent animal.

"Hear that Goblin?" laughed Elfraine. "I'd point out the prince has a very sharp sword, and if you don't mind your manners you might find him attempting the job himself!"

With a plaintive meow Goblin closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, preserving the last shreds of his dignity.

As Elfraine turned back to Nuada, she found him staring at her once again and it threw her slightly off balance. "Um, can I get you some tea or coffee?" she offered. "I think I'll make a cup of tea for myself," she added as she started for the kitchen.

"No, thank you," replied Nuada as he stood and started to pace restlessly around the room.

"What is on your mind?" asked Elfraine as she filled the kettle and put it on to boil.

"What do you mean?" asked Nuada sharply as he suddenly stopped pacing at her question.

"You look at though you have something on your mind," replied Elfraine.

Nuada frowned slightly at her perceptiveness and after a long moment of silence, finally voiced the question that had been bothering him all evening. "Why did you give me that poem?" he asked bluntly.

It was the work of a human but he couldn't get it out of his mind. It expressed all he'd ever wished his father to understand: that his father should not have given up the fight and should have instead raged against the dying of his people's light, indeed, of his _own_ light. The words just seemed so _right_, and they gave him a measure of... almost peace even as guilt and bitter regret rode him over the death of his father.

And Nuada realised that if he was shaken by the poem, he was even more shaken by the woman – the _human_ woman – who'd given it to him. It seemed that in choosing to give him that particular work, she'd somehow seen into the heart of him and understood... _something_, and he found that profoundly disturbing. His world was suddenly different and he could no longer be quite as sure of anything as he once was. He needed to know why she'd given it to him so he could try to make sense of things, and he waited now for Elfraine's answer.

"I... I'm not sure," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I suppose it... it reminded me of you, or you reminded me of it. And... I hope it spoke to you in some way that... that meant something to you." She gave him an apologetic look as she admitted, "That's not a very good answer, I know. It was a gift. Does it need any explanation?"

"No, I don't suppose it does," he conceded, though he continued to stare at her as if he could discover an explanation if he just looked hard enough.

"Do you think my father cursed me or blessed me as he died?" he asked suddenly.

Elfraine was extremely surprised at the question. It was obviously something that was playing on his mind. "I have no idea and I wouldn't even like to hazard a guess," she replied gently. "But perhaps even if he had been cursing you it would have also been a blessing because he would have been raging against _something_ at least... as you were asking him to."

"That is an interesting way of looking at it," said Nuada as he thought about what she'd said.

"The message I take from the poem is that you shouldn't die without a fight, rather you should '_fight till the last gasp'_," she explained. "Though you appear to have come to such a conclusion long before any human ever voiced it. As far as your father goes, you'll have to forge your own meaning out of it. No one else can do that for you," she added quietly.

"Do you think I was wrong to kill him?" asked Nuada, surprising Elfraine yet again.

"How can I answer that?" she asked in return as she took a moment to marshal her thoughts. "As you said yesterday, he'd ordered your death and you were fighting for both your life and your sister's, and for what you thought was right for your people. What else could you do? I don't think you were wrong. But..." she trailed off, acutely aware he probably wasn't going to like what she was about to say next.

"But what?" asked Nuada sharply.

"But killing a king is either high treason or a revolution. There are no other possible ways to view it, regardless that you are the heir," Elfraine stated. "If I were you I would return to my court with all possible speed and establish my authority before anyone labelled my actions treasonous and sought to hold me to account on that head," she advised matter-of-factly. "I take it a challenge against you for the throne based on your actions four years ago is a distinct possibility."

Nuada knew immediately that she was thinking of Nuala and those who supported his father's position. "You are as pragmatic as ever, madam," he said dryly. "And you are quite right on all counts. Claiming the throne is exactly what I intend to do... with all possible speed, as you say."

"A most sensible course of action," she remarked, relieved that he'd taken her words so well. It emboldened her to raise a subject which, as a mother, had been playing on her mind since the day before, and she said hesitantly, "Um, I... I have a question of my own, if you don't mind."

"I suppose that's only fair. I've asked more than my share of questions tonight," Nuada replied.

"Please, don't take offence at what I ask," Elfraine forewarned him with a cautious look.

"I'm touched by your concern for my feelings," he said with some irony.

Elfraine had the grace to look embarrassed for a moment before she responded. "Well, I don't want to put you in a bad mood. I've discovered you're much closer to tolerable when you are _not_ in one," she teased as she tried to hide an impish grin.

Nuada raised a brow at that and asked dryly, "So I am to take it then that at my best I am merely 'tolerable'?"

"Much _closer_ to it," she corrected with a delighted laugh. As she opened her mouth to say more, she noticed a sudden intense and unsettling look cross his face, and she glanced away in confusion instead as a hint of colour touched her cheeks.

"Ask your question," Nuada instructed in a measured tone as he made an effort to arrange his expression into one of polite, if slightly bored attention.

"I... I wonder what would make a king order the death of his heirs or a parent countenance the death of his children unless he was a... a monster. Was your father such a man?" she asked cautiously.

"No, he was not!" Nuada answered without hesitation. He could see why she might be worried about causing offence with her question but he was still willing to humour her.

"Then why was he prepared to let you and your sister die?" asked Elfraine.

"He clung to an ideal of honour that was different to mine, and he was prepared to sacrifice Nuala and I to that ideal," said Nuada with some bitterness.

"So if not a monster, he was a foolish and shallow man," she said, though her comment was more in the nature of a question.

"No!" exclaimed Nuada in surprise. "He was not a shallow man nor was he a foolish one though I'll admit he had his blind spots, as do we all, the truce with the humans being _his_ most obvious one."

"But it seems a foolish and shallow thing to do, to sacrifice your children and heirs to an ideal that can have no possible meaning without the people it serves," remarked Elfraine, more puzzled than ever now. "What on earth could compel him to do such a thing? I must confess I cannot imagine any circumstances under which I'd ever contemplate doing what he did... can you?"

Nuada started to shake his head and then stopped suddenly as he thought of the one thing he himself had always been prepared to make any sacrifice for, even down to his father's life... and maybe even his own honour: his people and the earth that sustained them. And somewhere in the depths of his mind the faintest glimmer of an idea sparked to life, and a different view of his father started to take shape.

"I... I think he felt compelled by the love he had for our people," said Nuada hesitantly as he struggled to give form to the amorphous idea that had sprung to life within him.

"It's a strange sort of love that would let its object _fade_," remarked Elfraine skeptically.

"To my father, our people were nothing without honour. I... I don't think he could bear the thought of us being cut off from so vital a part of our nature. Perhaps... perhaps it was his love for us that saw him prefer to fade rather than abruptly sever that part of us. I think he thought we would destroy ourselves in any case if we did such a thing, and it was better to leave this world remaining true to our nature and with our honour intact," Nuada explained as the idea started to take shape in his mind. "What I could never make him understand was that we'd already lost our honour and had nothing to lose," he added bitterly.

Elfraine gave him a considering look as she thought about that. "Perhaps then you and your father were two sides of the same coin," she mused.

Nuada looked at her in surprise. "That has been said of myself and Nuala... many times but I can't recall anyone ever making the comparison between my father and I," he said with a puzzled look.

"Fading away on the one side and fighting to the last on the other, and in between something shared... your love for your people," explained Elfraine pensively.

Nuada was suddenly struck by a moment of blinding clarity as he saw what he'd never fully appreciated before; he and his father _had_ had that in common, their love for their people... and for the earth. He'd always thought his father's insistence on keeping the truce was motivated by a misguided devotion to a hollow ideal of honour which meant more to him than either his children or his people. That something deeper lay at its heart had never occurred to him until tonight but he knew it was true, and he suddenly remembered all he'd forgotten about his father during his centuries of self-imposed exile and before Balor had grown old and weary, no longer the great king he once was.

Nuada thought now about his early years when athair had been all that a child could want – generous with his time, his patience and his affection; how later, when his father had been his first instructor in the art of warfare, they'd fought side-by-side in battle, fiercely defending their people and their lands; and how athair had taught him the skills needed to lead his people and ensure their well-being and happiness, all the while imparting his own values and beliefs to his young son – values and beliefs that were now woven into the very fibre of his son's being and that would be part of him until the day he died. He wondered what thoughts had run through his father's mind as he'd watched his people decline over the millennia, and whether in his heart he regretted any of the choices he'd made over the years.

Nuada recalled too the day four years ago when he'd killed his father. In the heat of battle, his focus had been on the Butcher Guards as he'd quickly dispatched them. But now he pulled out and examined a sight which had caught in the periphery of his vision that day and which he'd locked away, unwilling to admit the feelings it aroused because they contradicted everything he thought he knew about his father: athair turning away in the throne, leaning his head in his hand and shielding his eyes, unable to look. It was the posture of a man given over to grief, and as he thought about that scene Nuada began to realise just what a king's sense of duty might have cost a father.

It was an epiphany, and he walked over to the couch and sat down as in a daze. He'd always thought athair misguided and that hadn't changed but Nuada saw him now with more clarity and understanding than he ever had, and as he felt the stirrings of pity for his father he was able at last to contemplate forgiveness both for athair and for himself.

A light touch on his upper arm and a gentle shake suddenly recalled Nuada to his surroundings.

"Are you all right Sir?" Elfraine was asking. It was the third time she'd repeated the question and she was starting to become worried about him. He was leaning back on the couch and staring up into space with the strangest look on his face, in another world completely.

Nuada stared at her as she looked at him with concern. As he tried to concentrate on what she was saying he was startled by another realisation – one he found almost utterly incomprehensible. It was she, a human, who had set his thoughts on this path, and suddenly all he could think about was her as he tried to make sense of that.

Elfraine felt his muscles tense under her hand and knew she finally had his attention. "Are you all right?" she repeated once more. As she waited for his response, she sensed a sudden air of simmering tension about him and became wary. Slowly relaxing her hold on his arm, she removed her hand with a strange reluctance as she straightened up and took a cautious step backwards.

"Yes, I... I am," Nuada replied hesitantly as he frowned at the loss of her warm touch and her closeness. He was suddenly filled with a fierce yearning; his arms ached to hold her again as he had the day before, and he wanted nothing more than to feel her soft lips beneath his and taste her strength and her life. He drew in a sharp breath and looked away as he struggled to master his feelings.

"Are you sure?" Elfraine whispered, mesmerised by the expression on his face. Something deep inside her recognised it for what it was, and as it pulled at every feminine instinct she possessed, she found herself powerless to turn away from him.

Nuada looked back up at her and was lost in a pair of warm brown eyes shimmering with awakening desire, and in that moment the vague nascent feeling that had plagued him these last few days flamed into burning certainty as he finally gave up his struggle against it. He leaned forward and caught her hand, pulling her closer, and as she stood between his legs, looking down at him with an expression of yearning on her face, he regarded her with a hungry intensity and admitted in a voice made rough with longing, "Lady, the only thing I am sure of in this moment is that I want you... I _need_ you."

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

'Fight till the last gasp' – Shakespeare, _King Henry the Sixth_, Act 1, Scene 2.


	23. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**A/N: M-Rated Chapter****.**

.

**Chapter 22**

At his words a sensuous warmth flared in the pit of Elfraine's stomach. She tried to recall all the reasons why she shouldn't succumb to the pleasures promised by his eyes but they skittered out of reach like brittle autumn leaves blown to the four corners of the earth, and all she could think of was everything about him that called irresistibly to her.

She delighted in his sharp, clever mind and had to admit she enjoyed their verbal sparring, even if she didn't always come off best. His sense of honour, his love for his people, and his honesty all commanded her respect... and if she was being honest herself, it certainly didn't hurt that she was physically attracted to him. But it was the consideration he'd sometimes shown her that so captivated Elfraine: offering his sword to her in the Troll Market so she could feel safe, interested enough to listen to her and find out more about her, and sharing something of his innermost self when he'd told her a little bit about his life tonight.

She'd learnt many centuries ago never to trust the word of a man but she suddenly realised now she just might be able to trust _him_, if only for this one night, and more than that, she _wanted_ to trust him tonight. It was only yesterday she'd thought to avoid anything like this because she didn't want any more regrets. Now though, Elfraine knew with every fibre of her being the only thing she'd regret was not knowing as much of him as she could in the time she had left and so she stood before him, a willing captive to the look in his eyes as she awaited his pleasure.

As Nuada held her gaze he raised her hand to within a hairsbreadth of his lips and caressed the back of her fingers with his thumb before turning her hand over and placing a warm, lingering kiss on the palm. Elfraine couldn't hide a shiver of delight as his dark lips moved slowly against her sensitive flesh, and his eyes flashed in a look of pure masculine satisfaction at her response.

He tugged gently on her hand, pulling her down into his lap, and as his hands went to her hips she steadied herself against his chest, drawing in a soft breath at the warm, hard feel of him under her palms. Nuada closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, taking delight in the heat and pressure of her hands through the thin material of his shirt, and the weight of her body on his. A flame of desire licked low in his belly and as he instinctively tightened his hold on her hips, Elfraine felt him start to stir against her thigh.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he fixed her with a look of searing intensity. He seemed to be searching for something in her face... or waiting for something; she couldn't tell which. She just wished he'd hurry up and kiss her otherwise she'd have to take matters into her own hands. Her eyes fell to his lips, and she tilted her head and leaned closer to give him better access to her own.

It seemed to be what he was waiting for. As she looked back up into his eyes, Elfraine was caught and held fast by the surge of triumphant satisfaction she saw in his fierce, molten gaze.

Nuada exhaled a harsh breath of relief as she yielded to him; it would have been almost more than he could bear if she'd refused him now. He lowered his head to claim her lips but Elfraine suddenly held up her hand against his mouth, stopping him before she lost her last remaining shred of coherent thought.

"No promises," she whispered. "Only this night."

"Only this night," Nuada agreed, removing her hand and finally lowering his head to hers.

His warm firm lips brushed lightly over her mouth as his hair fell forward, shutting out everything but the delightful, willing woman on his lap. Wrapping her within the circle of his arms and holding her tightly, he urged her to open up to him and as she parted her lips on a soft sigh, he increased the pressure of his mouth to take hers in a deep, shattering kiss.

Elfraine's every sense was utterly overwhelmed by him and she melted into his hardness and strength as his lips moved on hers, slowly at first as he discovered the taste and feel of her, and then with increasing urgency as he sought to know more.

As they kissed, Nuada realised he wasn't anywhere near as close to her as he needed to be and he suddenly tore his mouth away from Elfraine's, much to her disappointment. With a shuddering breath, he tried to find the strength to move so he could get her to more comfortable surroundings. Summoning every ounce of willpower he possessed he stood up, sliding her slowly down the length of his body until she too was standing. She nearly undid his tenuous resolve though when she made a sound of protest at the loss of his hard warmth, and suddenly even the rug in front of the fire seemed too far away.

He quickly swept her up in his arms. "Where's your bedroom?" he asked with rough urgency as she wound her arms around his neck and gazed hungrily at him.

"Over there," Elfraine whispered, unable to take her eyes off him. She nodded her head towards the door on the wall beyond the couch, and Nuada leaned down to give her a swift, hard kiss before he carried her over to it.

He kicked open the door and quickly crossed to the bed to set Elfraine down on it. Then he went down on one knee before her and gently took her face in his hands, giving her one last chance to back away. "Are you certain you want this?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"More than anything," she replied breathlessly. "And you?"

He touched his lips to hers, the barest whisper of feeling, and breathed against her mouth, "Yes," before he deepened the kiss with a groan.

Elfraine wound her arms around his neck once more, kissing him back with a fervour that matched his own, and she sighed with pleasure as he pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her.

His hands roamed feverishly over the contours of her body before finding the zip of her dress. It was the work of a moment to undo it and, still kissing her, he slid the dress off her shoulders and caressed the length of her as he pulled it down past her breasts and to her hips. He broke off their kiss and leaned back to look at her, his face tight with desire, and Elfraine decided in that instant he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen in all the years she'd walked this earth.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and stood up, her dress falling to the floor, and Nuada reached out to quickly remove the last barriers that shielded her from his sight. He drew in a sharp breath of appreciation at the sight of her soft, round curves, and couldn't help but think _he'd_ been the deluded one when he'd told her only a few days ago there was nothing remotely attractive about her. His eyes drank their fill of her, and when he took hold of her by the waist and leaned forward to give her a hot, lingering kiss on her stomach, Elfraine gasped in pleasure and melted with need. Nuada gazed up at her with a look that promised heaven, and then pushed her gently back onto the bed.

He stood up, towering over her, and started to unfasten the ties on his shirt but his eyes remained on Elfraine, devouring every inch of her as she lay supine before him.

She leaned up on her elbows and reached out to still his hand with her own, saying unsteadily, "Let me Sir."

He started in surprise at her address, and he realised he'd never given her permission to use his name. Suddenly, he wanted... he _needed_ to hear it on her lips. "Please... call me by my name," he said as he stared hungrily at her. His heart almost stopped at the stunning smile she gave him.

"Yes... Nuada," she breathed, her voice caressing his name as she looked up at him.

The simmering heat burning low in his belly flared up at the sound, and he put his hand under her chin as he leaned down to give her another long, deep kiss.

"Oh, Nuada," she sighed against his mouth, and his kiss suddenly became fiercely urgent as the heat in him threatened to build into an inferno.

Elfraine clung to his arm and kissed him back, savouring the taste and feel of him.

Finally he lifted his head and, taking a breath to steady himself, removed her hands from his forearm and placed them on the ties of his shirt. "Don't take too long, Lady" he said in a rough voice as he lightly traced a finger over her swollen, passion-kissed lips. It was all he could do not to taste them again.

"Oh, I won't," she promised as she started to unfasten the ties. However she stopped suddenly as she glanced down. "But maybe we should remove your boots first," she said, looking back up at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"By all means," he agreed, wondering what she had in mind. His lips curled in a lazy, sensual smile as he lifted her up off the bed and held her against him, and Elfraine forgot all about his boots as she focused on his mouth instead.

She threaded her hands through his hair and brought his head down to give him a hot, sensuous kiss as they turned around slowly. He fell back onto the bed, pulling her down on top of him, and reached lower to cup her backside. She was straddling his hips and all that separated his hard flesh from her soft warmth was the material of his pants. Unable to help himself he started to thrust up against her, and Elfraine, just as powerless to resist, responded to his rhythm. Nuada quickly realised if they didn't stop soon it would be all over for both of them before it had even begun, and somehow he found the willpower to break off their kiss.

"I think we should remove my boots... now!" he rasped out between gritted teeth.

"Ummm," agreed Elfraine, capturing his mouth again as she rocked slowly against him with delicious torment.

As she gently grazed his lower lip with her teeth, a sharp wave of lust suddenly pierced Nuada and drove him right to the brink. "By the Gods, woman! Don't move!" he gasped as he grabbed her hips, stilling both her movements and his own.

The urgency in his voice pierced the haze of her own need and recalled Elfraine to her senses. She drew a shuddering breath and slowly pushed herself back up from him with clear reluctance.

"You can ride me later," he promised, with hot anticipation... and totally distracting her yet again.

"My boots, Lady," he reminded her as she struggled to regain her focus.

"Oh... yes," she replied with a sensuous smile. "And your promise... that's one I'll gladly accept," she added before stealing a quick kiss and standing up.

Nuada leaned up on his elbows and half sat as Elfraine turned to straddle his legs... and then he froze. She lowered herself onto his lap with her back to him and bent forward over his knees to undo his boots, giving him a heavenly view of her derrière and a teasing glimpse of paradise... and all so tantalisingly close to the seat of his desire. He fell back on the bed with a groan as he decided she was going to be the death of him.

It only took him a second though to realise he might as well enjoy the view before he died, and he leaned up on his elbows again as she worked on the fastenings of his boots. Once she had them undone, Elfraine climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him to remove them, and when she looked up at him through a tumble of soft brown curls, her eyes so full of delightful promise, his heart started to race uncontrollably. He stood and pulled her to her feet to give her another slow, scorching kiss as he steered her around and sat her back on the bed again.

Elfraine turned her attention to getting rid of the rest of his clothing and reached up for the ties of his shirt with fingers that weren't quite steady. As each one came loose, she leaned forward and kissed his exposed flesh, and Nuada reflexively grabbed hold of her shoulders at the feel of her warm mouth on his skin. She trailed kisses along the length of his firm, muscled chest and over the hard ridges of his stomach until his shirt was finally undone, and then she pushed it back off his shoulders and down over his arms, all the while admiring the restrained power and strength of him.

As his shirt joined her dress on the floor, she grasped the waistband of his pants and pulled him closer. Nuada's self-control was almost in shreds by now and when Elfraine leaned in to place a slow, warm kiss low on his stomach and taste him with her tongue, he felt ready to burst. It was all he could do to stop himself from throwing her back on the bed and taking her there and then. Instead, he squeezed her shoulders and willed himself to hold still while she undid his belt and pants, and slid them down over his hips. He was hot and heavy with desire, and Elfraine murmured with feminine appreciation at the sight of him. Unable to stand it any longer, Nuada hauled her to her feet and held her tightly as he took her mouth in a searing kiss. Then he swept her up in his arms and lowered her to the bed, quickly covering her body with his own.

Elfraine moaned at the delectable sensation of his hard weight and bare skin pressed against her, and thought she'd never felt anything so wonderful. She caressed his chest as they kissed, causing him to gasp in pleasure against her mouth, and ran her hands slowly over his shoulders and arms, delighting in the feel of him as he turned his attention to her breasts.

His hair brushed softly over her stomach as he took one pink bud in his mouth and laved it with his tongue while reaching out to knead her other breast with a sure, firm touch. She sighed with delight at the overwhelming sensations and pushed her fingers into his silky hair as she took his head in both hands and urged him on. He turned his attention to the other side then looked up at her with a slow, wicked smile before returning to her mouth once more.

The hard length of him pressed against her soft thigh, and Nuada couldn't stop himself from circling his hips against her as he sought to ease the torment driving him. He slipped his hand between her legs and found her wet and ready for him.

Elfraine was suffering her own torments. She opened up to him so he could get closer still, moaning with pleasure as he slipped into the cradle of her thighs and started to slowly push home. She was much smaller than he was and he wanted to give her time to adjust to his size but she rose up beneath him, blindly seeking all of him, and it was impossible to hold back any longer. He mounted her fully with one sure thrust, revelling in the tight, silky feel of her welcoming body as she wrapped around him. Desire clawed at his belly, turning his blood to fire and demanding release, and it was all he could do to hold still, seated to the hilt and savouring the feel of her.

He felt so utterly right and suddenly Elfraine could wait no longer. Her eyes were glazed with passion, and she writhed under him as she begged in a voice threaded with urgent need, "Oh Nuada! Don't stop! Please, don't stop!"

Her pleas broke the dam of his restraint and he threw back his head, giving a groan of delight as he began to thrust into her with long, slow strokes. The coil of their passion wound tighter and tighter as he increased the pace, sweeping them ever closer to the brink. Her hips rose to meet his and she felt like heaven beneath him. Suddenly the tension crested and searing waves of exquisite pleasure crashed over them both. Elfraine's release tore through her heart, her mind and her body as she came apart in his arms, and Nuada's climax roared in every fibre of his being as he filled her with the force of his strength and his life.

His heart was racing and he was breathing hard by the time the intense waves of pleasure started to recede, and when it was finally over he lay on top of her, sated and spent, his body still joined to hers, and she threw her arms around him and held him tightly as sleep came down to claim them.

**... ...**

Nuada woke Elfraine from her sleep twice that night: once with a fierce urgency as he could wait no longer to recapture the pleasure he'd so recently enjoyed with her, and once with a slow, steady gentleness that shook her to the core of her being. And when she roused him in the quiet hours before dawn, her mouth and her hands kissing and caressing every hard, muscled inch of him, he awoke more than ready to fulfill his earlier promise to her. Finally, when their passion was spent he held her in his arms and kissed her forehead as she rested against his chest, and each found a rare, quiet moment of peace before they drifted off to sleep.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_Chapter posted 4th August 2012_


	24. Chapter 23

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 23**

The wild weather had blown itself out sometime during the night and a warm ray of early morning sun fell across Nuada's face and chest, piercing the veil of his dreams to call him back to the waking world. He reached out for Elfraine but she wasn't there. As he sat up and looked around for her, he heard her moving about in the living area. Throwing back the sheets, he got up and pulled on his pants then went out with every intention of dragging her back to bed so he could say goodbye properly.

He stopped short when he saw her though. Leaning back against the jamb of the bedroom door, he watched her with a brooding look on his face. She wore a casual t-shirt, jeans and flat work boots, and her hair was tied back; she looked as if she'd already said goodbye.

Elfraine was crouching in front of the shelves by the bookcase, selecting pieces of navigational equipment and stowing them carefully in a pack that already held some of her nautical charts. Sensing Nuada's silent, watchful presence, she stopped and glanced up.

He caught the most fleeting of looks in her eyes; it might have been sadness – he wasn't sure - and then she gave him that breath-taking smile of hers. It called irresistibly to him, and he pushed off the door jamb and crossed over to her.

"Good morning," she said as she stood.

"Good morning," Nuada replied as he reached her and slipped his arms around her waist. "You look as though you're going somewhere," he said in a measured tone as he glanced down at the pack by her feet.

"Yes," said Elfraine with a small sigh. "There's a good breeze off the coast today and it should be fair weather for sailing so I've changed my plans slightly. I hope to catch the morning tide," she added, sliding her hands up to rest on his shoulders and tilting her head back to look at him.

"I thought you were going to stay a few days before leaving," he commented, keeping his voice deliberately neutral.

"I was but, well... it might be, um, _better_ to leave today," Elfraine said with a tight, smile. Easier to leave today, she told herself though without much conviction; she was suddenly finding nothing was easy about leaving. "As I recall, you'll also be on your way today," she remarked.

"Yes," replied Nuada as he stared intently at her lips. But before he could kiss her good morning something about her earlier comment distracted him. "You have a boat?" he asked with a frown.

"I do indeed," answered Elfraine. "She's a small cutter – _Fortune's Chance_. She's berthed at a marina on the coast."

"She's named after your daughter," Nuada remarked quietly.

"Yes," Elfraine whispered.

"Where are you headed?" he asked abruptly.

Elfraine looked at him for a moment before deciding it was an easy enough question to answer. "I'm bound for the Great Southern Ocean, one of the wildest stretches of water on the planet."

"Why?" Nuada asked starkly.

That was a harder question to answer, thought Elfraine but she told him anyway. "For a chance to put things right for my daughter," she explained softly.

"_Fortune's Chance_," he murmured.

Elfraine merely inclined her head.

Nuada stared at her as an uneasy feeling started to grow within him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how she'd manage such a thing in the endless, empty expanse of the sea let alone manage it for a child who'd been dead four hundred years. And too, he recalled Gràinne's warning to her from the night before last. "What exactly are you going to do?" he asked warily.

His questions were becoming more difficult. "I'm not entirely certain yet," Elfraine prevaricated. "I expect things will be made clearer once I get there."

A small frown creased her brow and Nuada lifted a hand to smooth it away as he opened his mouth to ask yet another question.

Elfraine forestalled him though as she rushed on with one of her own. "Do elves sail?"

He realised straight away she wanted to change the subject and he let her get away with it, telling himself that her business was none of his. "Some of our peoples are great seafarers but not my clan, the Clan of Bethmoora," he replied.

"So you've never been on the water?" she asked, a little surprised.

"I've sailed on lakes and rivers, and some coastal waters," Nuada told her. "But I've never undertaken an ocean-going voyage. I've never had the need to."

"No, I don't suppose you would have," remarked Elfraine as she gave him a pitying look. "With your ability to flit from one place to another in the blink of an eye, it wouldn't be at all necessary."

"It is not," he confirmed dryly, wondering why on earth she seemed to feel sorry for him.

"Oh, but you don't know what you're missing Nuada," she told him as her face came alive with excitement. "To be out in the middle of the ocean... it's one of the best things you can imagine. To just _be_ in a bright, fresh day, and feel the sun shining down on you and the wind in your face. The sky – so blue, stretching out forever. And the vast currents of the world moving beneath you. And when the barometer falls, when the wind and the waves come up, and the sky and water turn grey, when you're tested to your limits… that's when you really know what it is to be alive."

Nuada gave her a slow smile as the reason for her pity became clear.

Elfraine noticed it and stopped suddenly, collecting herself. "I'm sorry. Sailing is one of the few things in this world I'll never tire of. Every time out on the water is different. For all that the ocean and sky can look the same in every direction, they're not you know. I tend to get a bit carried away when I talk about it," she said, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Don't apologise, Lady. You are delightful when you get carried away," Nuada told her as he gave her a warm look.

Elfraine blushed charmingly as she took his meaning. She hid her face in his chest, suddenly shy at the compliment, and Nuada tightened his hold on her a little more.

"I am not laughing at your enthusiasm," he explained. "It's just that you remind me of... someone. You sound like Ælfweard when you talk about sailing."

"Ælfweard?" she asked, looking back up with a puzzled frown.

"The elf you, ah, met in the Troll Market the night before last," explained Nuada succinctly.

"Oh, yes! The angry elf!" said Elfraine. Nuada frowned at that and she quickly gave him an apologetic smile. "I... I gather you were once friends," she said hesitantly.

"We were," Nuada replied flatly.

"Oh!... Um, I do hope I wasn't the cause of any further disagreement between you," Elfraine said cautiously.

"You probably were," Nuada told her bluntly. "However it would be but a drop in that ocean you are so fond of. The rift between us occurred when Manning forced my oath and my allegiance," he said bitterly.

"You didn't tell Ælfweard about the rune stone, I take it," said Elfraine with a hint of commiseration.

"No," Nuada confirmed shortly.

"Well, you have it back now. Perhaps you can explain things and make your peace with him," she offered encouragingly.

"We shall see," said Nuada, his tone non-committal.

"So, Ælfweard likes sailing too, does he?" asked Elfraine in an attempt to distract him from his sombre thoughts. She leaned her head on his chest once again, and slipped her arms around his waist.

"It's in his blood," explained Nuada, as he rested his chin on her head and enjoyed just holding her. "He is descended on his father's side from the _Álfar_ of _Álfheimr_, or what you humans call Scandinavia. Ælfweard is of the _Daoine Sìth_, one of the Fae races of the lands you know as Scotland, but his great grandfather was one of the last of the _Álfar_, and Ælfweard inherited his grandsire's love of the sea. The Álfar were a great race of seafarers; their seamanship was the envy of the Norsemen who lived around them."

Elfraine wondered what had happened to the _Álfar_ but decided it was probably not wise to ask so she merely remarked instead, "They were Viking elves then."

"I suppose you could call them that," Nuada conceded.

"Who'd have thought it? I have something else in common with Ælfweard," Elfraine mused. "Apart from a love of sailing," she added.

"What do you mean?" asked Nuada, pulling back slightly to look down at her.

"My surname, 'Somerled', has its origins in Old Norse – 'Sumarliethi'," she explained as she met his gaze. "It originally meant 'summer warrior', meaning the Viking raiders who came to Britain's shores each summer. It describes an early predecessor, though you wouldn't know it to look at me," she said ruefully, thinking of her short stature and dark colouring. "I imagine the only thing I have in common with that old ancestor is sailing... and the blood tie of course."

Talking of names reminded Elfraine of something which had been bothering her for a while now. "As we've touched on the subject of names, would you mind answering a question on the topic... Nuada?" she ventured casually, though the slight pause before she said his name should have given _him_ pause.

"Not at all," he replied readily enough.

"Why do you not use my given name?" she asked baldly. "I've run the gamut from 'human' to 'woman' to 'madam' to 'Lady', with the occasional 'Miss Somerled' thrown in. Do you think you might possibly get around to 'Elfraine' before I leave in a little while?"

The sudden wary look on his face gave Elfraine her answer.

"Well, do you think you could at least tell me what is _wrong_ with my name?" she asked, clearly chagrined.

He abruptly let her go and pulled away. "Are you aware of what it means?" he asked in return, his tone suddenly stiff. He really wished she hadn't raised the subject.

"Of course I know what my own... name... means," she trailed off as she suddenly realised why he was _never_ going to say her name. "Oh!" she exclaimed before she clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. Her eyes gave her away though.

"It is no laughing matter, madam!" said Nuada sternly.

Elfraine's other hand joined the first one and her shoulders shook slightly. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed as she struggled to compose herself. "So we're back at 'madam' now, are we."

Nuada gave her a fierce scowl as he bit out, "On you – a human! - the name is an..."

He stopped abruptly; it struck him that completing the thought might not be the most gallant thing to do, particularly given the night they'd just spent together. He needn't have worried; Elfraine finished it for him.

"An... abomination! Or... or an insult beyond imagining!" she exclaimed gleefully.

"What on earth possessed your parents to give you such a name?" asked Nuada irritably.

"Ah, as it happens there _is_ something of a story to it," started Elfraine obligingly enough. However she stopped abruptly herself, and fell silent as an uncomfortable look flitted across her face.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Umm, on reflection, it's not a very interesting tale... and probably not really worth repeating," she replied warily, as she took her own step back.

Nuada was immediately suspicious. "Give me the particulars now and don't even consider arguing the point," he commanded tersely, looking every inch the royal prince despite being in just his pants and bare feet.

Elfraine shot him a look of annoyance. His tone was such that she hesitated to disobey however she couldn't help but argue the point. "Are you _sure_ you want to hear it? I tell you now, you won't like it one little bit and it would be a shame to spend our remaining time together quarrelling instead of occupying ourselves with more... pleasant activities."

"The story... now!" he said sternly, pushing the distracting thought of more pleasant activities aside for the moment.

So, he wouldn't be persuaded to change his mind, thought Elfraine crossly. Glancing swiftly around the room, she calculated the odds, and came up with a plan of sorts. "Very well... Nuada," she acceded as she started to wander around the room, all the while moving obliquely towards the door which led to the landing. "Hmmm, where would be the best place to start?" she wondered aloud as she pursed her lips and considered the matter, still moving unhurriedly in the direction of the door.

"Why don't you start at the beginning," Nuada suggested silkily, his patience rapidly fraying.

"What a good idea," remarked Elfraine, turning to give him a bright, false smile of approval as she reached the door. She noted with satisfaction she now had the furniture and the distance of the room between them, and she reached surreptitiously behind her to grasp the door handle. Being very careful and moving very slowly, she started to turn it.

Nuada's eyes narrowed at the faint sound of the latch clicking. "What on earth are you doing?" he bit out, suddenly starting forward.

Elfraine jumped in alarm. "Oh! You really are impossible!" she exclaimed peevishly. "I daresay I'll have to run once you hear the tale and you could at least give me a sporting chance."

Nuada considered the obstacles between them and calculated his own odds. "Very well," he agreed as he shot her a hard look. He folded his arms across his chest and regarded her with a flinty stare as he waited for her to start her story.

"It's not a long tale," said Elfraine on a sigh as she stealthily started to turn the door handle once again.

Nuada frowned slightly but let her get away with it.

"When she was about six months pregnant, my mother met a faerie in the woods... or so the story goes," Elfraine explained, turning the door handle just a little further. "The faerie gave her a prophecy for her unborn child... that was me," she added, a little unnecessarily.

There, she thought with satisfaction; the handle was now fully turned. It wasn't the best of head starts but it was better than nothing.

"And what was this prophecy?" asked Nuada impatiently.

"That... that the child she carried would... would one day be... Queen of Elfland so my mother called me Elfraine, or Elf Queen!" she finished on a rush, turning to the door and pulling it open as she made to run just as fast as she could.

And that was about as far as she got. In the blink of an eye, Nuada had vaulted over the couch, cleared the coffee table and chair, and crossed the remaining distance to reach Elfraine before she even set so much as a foot outside the door.

He slammed it shut with both hands and pinned her against it with his weight. "Queen of Elfland!" he bit out in angry disbelief.

"I had _nothing_ to do with it!" Elfraine cried out somewhat desperately. "It was all the work of my mother and the faerie!" She managed to turn herself around, and tried to push him back slightly to gain some breathing space but he proved to be completely immovable.

"Queen of Elfland!" he exclaimed again. "You! A human! That is one of the most ridiculous and insulting things I have ever heard!" he said, his voice rife with disgust. "It is bad enough you are called the name but to have such a thing prophesied... it is intolerable!"

Elfraine scowled at him; she liked neither his tone nor his words. As she'd pointed out, the story was in no way her fault; it was obviously high time _Prince_ Nuada was put in his place.

"That is no way to speak about your future Queen," she informed him haughtily. "I'll have you elves properly organised in next to no time once I take the throne... and you'll thank me for it."

Nuada eyes burned holes through her; he could barely speak for rage at her audacious words.

"And one of the first things I'll do is have _you_ taught some manners," she added with malicious satisfaction.

"And does it not occur to you there might be a _king_ who has some say in all of this?" he bit out as he fought the almost overwhelming urge to strangle her.

"King!" exclaimed Elfraine as though the thought _hadn't_ occurred to her. "No, no, no," she said, dismissing the idea with breezy disdain. "If I am to be queen of anything I most certainly don't want a _king_ lurking around, sticking his nose in and making a nuisance of himself. No, I'll manage the whole business myself... just like Elizabeth did!"

"I mean _I_ will be king!" snapped Nuada, his palms itching as he seriously considered giving in to the urge to strangle her.

"Oh no you won't!" she promptly informed him, cutting off anything else he might have been about to say. "I am not sharing my throne with anyone! And if you try to argue about it I'll have you locked up in the darkest dungeon in Elfland. Of course, I'd visit you from time to time... I'm sure you'd still have your uses, after all," she added, leering at him for good measure.

Nuada was about to wrap his hands around her neck when he noticed the gleam in her eye and it suddenly struck him that she was teasing. He pounded his fists against the door instead, on either side of her head, and made her jump again. However the look she gave him was not particularly contrite and he drew several deep breaths as he struggled to regain control of his temper.

"And you say I am impossible!" he exclaimed in exasperation, at which Elfraine only burst out laughing. He grabbed her by the arms and looked down at her, uncertain whether to kiss her or shake her. He decided he'd shake her first and then kiss her but before he could do either she put her hands on his chest and looked up at him, her eyes still brimming with laughter.

Elfraine wasn't quite finished with him yet. "Don't take on so," she chided gently. "I don't actually think the faerie was very good at her trade... and she certainly wasn't very imaginative."

Nuada shook his head. "By all means, explain yourself," he said in a resigned tone. The sparkling look in her eyes somehow took the heat out of his anger.

Elfraine gave him a reassuring smile. "As you command, Nuada."

He resisted the urge to snort.

"The faerie completely missed the part about meeting a dragon and becoming immortal," Elfraine explained, "and wouldn't you agree that was far more interesting than something as mundane as becoming Queen of Elfland?" She rushed on as a dark frown threatened to cloud his face. "Why, every other child born in those days had a similar sort of thing prophesied for them... if the tales of their parents were anything to go by. There were any number of would-be kings and queens of Elfland wandering about the place. Poor elves! It must have been very confusing for you. It's quite clear the blame can be laid squarely at the feet of the faeries, running around making such prophecies willy-nilly and raising false hopes on every side."

Nuada opened his mouth but words failed him. It was the most arrant and thoroughgoing piece of nonsense he'd ever heard in all his four thousand-odd years on this earth.

Elfraine took pity on him and decided she'd teased him enough.

"Really, you shouldn't let it upset you so," she said in a slightly more serious tone. "I don't think my mother ever _really_ met a faerie. I suspect the whole story, along with many others she told, was the product of an unbalanced mind."

"What do you mean?" asked Nuada, still taken aback by the frankly breath-taking display of reasoning he'd just been subjected to.

"She was committed to the care of the Governors of Bridewell, at Bethlem Royal Hospital - or Bedlam, an asylum for the insane - when I was two years old, and died shortly afterwards in circumstances that were never quite made clear," Elfraine replied matter-of-factly.

Nuada started in surprise and leaned back slightly to look at her properly, the last of his anger suddenly evaporating. "It must have been hard to lose your mother at such a young age... and in such a way," he added as he pulled her back to him and just held her close instead.

Elfraine was momentarily lost for words at his gesture, particularly given she'd just teased him for all she was worth, and she hesitantly slipped her arms about his waist. "Well, I _was_ very young but I can't remember her at all now," she assured him as she rested her head on his chest once more. "I suspect it doesn't make much sense to miss someone you can't even remember," she added pensively.

She looked up and gave him a half-smile before she continued. "Anyway, it was only several hundred years later that I realised her tale about meeting the faerie was probably a delusion, much as I wanted to believe otherwise. And besides, I'm sure any faerie worth her salt would have surely mentioned dragons and immortality so I don't believe there ever was a faerie _or_ a prophecy. You may rest easy on that count."

"You are right," Nuada admitted as he bent his head and nuzzled her neck. No real faerie would ever have made such an impossible prophecy as a human becoming Queen of Elfland, he thought to himself.

"I am sorry I lost my temper," he said as he trailed light kisses all the way up to her mouth.

"I think I might be persuaded to forgive you," Elfraine whispered, suddenly breathless. She reached up to brush his hair back from his face.

"Will I have the time?" he asked, his voice suddenly tight with need as he turned his head and kissed her hand.

"Oh, yes," she murmured dreamily. "I... I think the evening tide will do just as well as the morning one."

Nuada lowered his head to hers, well-pleased with her answer, and gave her a fierce kiss. Then he gathered her up in his arms and carried her back to the bedroom to set about the enjoyable task of persuading her to forgive him.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Álfar:(Norse mythology) Light Elves.

Álfheimr: (Norse mythology; 'elf home') One of the nine worlds unified by the world tree, Yggdrasill, and home of the Álfar.

Daoine Sìth: (Scottish Gaelic) one of the Fae peoples of Scotland.


	25. Chapter 24

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 24**

An hour or so later, Elfraine was more than happy to admit to Nuada that he'd earned her forgiveness, several times over in fact. She lay on top of him, her limbs entwined with his, and he stroked her hair gently as the last faint pulses of pleasure rippled through him.

They stayed like that for some minutes, enjoying the warm feel of each other's touch, before Elfraine raised herself up and looked down at him. The battle scars on his shoulders caught her attention and she lightly traced a finger over one of them. "I'm sorry if I insulted you with my uncomplimentary inferences about these the other day," she said as she gave him a rueful smile.

"That is quite alright," he assured her as he rolled her over to the side and raised himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "I understand."

"Oh?" said Elfraine skeptically.

"Yes. You found the truth about your own fighting skills hard to bear and felt a need to lash out," he continued as his lips curled in smug superiority.

"Oh ho!" exclaimed Elfraine as she sat up abruptly and pushed him onto his back, uncertain whether to be amused or offended. "You were not so understanding at the time. You seemed to feel a need of your own to lash out, as I recall - you threatened to _spank_ me!"

"Now there is an idea worth considering," Nuada suggested wickedly as he placed his hands behind his head and looked up at her, his eyes glinting with sudden interest.

Elfraine backed up against the headboard as fascination and indignation warred for supremacy.

Nuada smiled at her indecision and reached out to pull her back to him. "Set your mind at ease, Lady," he reassured her. "You've taken everything I have to give so you are safe."

His words made Elfraine pause but for an entirely different reason. They reminded her starkly that their time together was almost at an end; what they'd shared was indeed all they could give each other.

"'_Had we but world enough, and time_'... for this thing, whatever it is, to run its course," she murmured wistfully as she looked down at him.

"But we don't," he replied soberly, taking her meaning immediately.

"No, we don't," she agreed with just the slightest hint of sorrow.

Nuada found he didn't like to see even such a small touch of sadness about her and he searched for something to distract her. His eyes dropped to her stomach and without properly considering the matter, he remarked, "You have scars of your own, Lady." He reached out and touched them.

"What?" asked Elfraine, as his comment pulled her away from her thoughts. She looked down at his hand on her stomach and saw what he was talking about. "Oh, yes. I suppose I do," she replied. "They are in no way comparable to yours though. Mine are due to a very different cause," she added with a slight frown.

Nuada suddenly realised the criss-cross of faint silvery lines on her stomach were the stretch marks of pregnancy, and he silently cursed himself for seizing on a topic which was only likely to darken her mood further.

However Elfraine surprised him. Her face cleared and she had a fond look in her eyes as she continued to speak. "Fortune was a very large baby. I thought I might have been carrying twins, particularly in the last two months. She stretched me all ways."

"I hope it is not a subject which distresses you," he remarked cautiously.

"Not at all," Elfraine assured him, with a small smile. "It was one of the happiest times of my life and I still remember those feelings, even after all these years. I won't let him steal _that_ from me."

Nuada knew she was referring to her third husband and his caution only increased. Luckily the talk about pregnancy reminded him of a point on which he'd meant to reassure her last night, and which he'd completely overlooked in his... distraction with her. Now though it would give him a chance to steer the conversation away from the potentially treacherous waters he suddenly found himself in.

"There is something I should mention as we're on the subject," he said as he looked up at her. "You should know I've taken precautions so there will be no... unintended consequences from last night and this morning."

"I'm not quite certain I take your meaning," she replied as she gave him a puzzled look.

"I mean, there is no chance of a babe in nine months' time," he explained bluntly.

Elfraine started in shock at his words. "Oh! I never even thought about that," she exclaimed with consternation. "It's as well _you_ did," she added, as she shot him a look of relief. "It's been four hundred years since I've had to give any thought to falling pregnant... and back then, when I was a wife, the whole point was to _get_ with child, not avoid it."

She paused slightly before asking hesitantly, "Um, what precautions did you take exactly, if you don't mind me asking. It's just... I... I can't recall you _doing_ anything specifically, or _not_ doing something as the case may be."

"I covered you with... well, you would call it magic. It prevents conception," Nuada replied. "And the, ah, spread of... disease," he added with some delicacy.

There was a moment's stunned silence and then Elfraine spoke. "Are you telling me you have the pox!" she exclaimed – indelicately - as she gave him a look of surprised indignation.

Nuada sat up abruptly at that. "No!" he snapped. "I do not have the pox!"

"Oh!" said Elfraine, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Are you saying then you think _I_ have the pox?"

"No! I do not think _anyone_ has the pox!" he said tersely. "I merely took _precautions_ and thought you'd be interested to know!" He was starting to wish now he hadn't mentioned any of it to her.

Elfraine considered him for a moment and then confounded him with a smile. "Well, thank you for that," she said. "It's most thoughtful of you... though I daresay you've had a great deal of experience with such matters, hmmm?" she noted archly as she raised a questioning brow.

"Oh no you don't, Madam," he told her firmly, recognising her look of feminine curiosity. "I am not discussing my past experience with you!"

"No doubt because you have trouble remembering the details of all your conquests," Elfraine remarked waspishly. "How long it will take before _I_ am lost amongst the hordes, not even a blurred face in the crowd?" she wondered aloud with contrived despondency.

"Fishing for a compliment are you?" he asked, a touch of amused condescension evident in his voice.

Elfraine's eyes were lively as she nodded and waited.

There was only silence.

"Well?" she prompted, undeterred. "Am I going to get one?"

Nuada sighed with feigned exasperation. "I can assure you I will never forget you. You are truly unique."

"I like the sound of that," she murmured.

He hadn't finished yet. "No one else has ever before asked me if I have the pox, and you will stand out in my memory if only for that!" he added with deliberate ambiguity.

Elfraine laughed delightedly and leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on his dark lips. "Ah well, if you remember me for nothing else then that will have to do, I suppose," she declared as she sat back again, much amused by his words.

Nuada caught his breath as he looked at her and thought to himself he'd remember her for a lot more than that. He reached out and pulled her back to him then lay down with her and held her close. They still had some time left, though not as much as he would have liked.

"I will have to go soon," he murmured as he smoothed down her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"Yes," Elfraine sighed as she looked up at him. "As will I. However I have some final matters to attend to here first. I take it you won't need a key for this place... to check on the dragons," she added at his questioning look.

"No, I won't," Nuada confirmed. "Your locks won't stop me gaining entry."

"Good. I'll only be taking what I need when I leave, which is basically what I can carry. You may have anything else that takes your fancy," Elfraine told him. "My landlord is one Mr Malachy Seachnall. He owns the antique business downstairs and I've already told him a friend will be using this place until the lease expires. Malachy is also the brave soul who's agreed to take on Goblin after I've gone so you have no need to worry on that score."

"I was not aware that _creature_ was ever going to be a concern of mine," Nuada remarked coolly.

"You'd have discovered it soon enough," Elfraine murmured as she attempted to hide a guilty look. She'd intended leaving Nuada a note and several tins of cat food until she remembered Malachy's fondness for the cat, which was largely on account of Goblin's prowess as a mouser. "Please, try not to kill him – Malachy, that is... and Goblin too, I suppose," she tacked on with a hesitation that would have earned her a scratch from the cat had he been about.

A hard look came into Nuada's eyes and his voice took on a sudden chill as he replied. "As long as neither of them get in my way, they should be safe enough."

Elfraine felt a twinge of concern on behalf of Mr Seachnall. She'd almost forgotten just how much Nuada hated humans. While she knew he no longer felt an aversion towards her, it still gave her pause for thought. But she wouldn't see him again after today and so there was no point in being troubled by it. Elfraine decided though to have a quick word with Malachy before she left this evening, and she could only hope it would be enough to keep him safe.

"Um, there is a further thing," she ventured hesitantly.

"Yes?" said Nuada, his expression and tone softening slightly as he glanced down at her.

"Would you please give my regards to your sister, and the others too... and make my apologies for not saying farewell in person?" she asked as she sat back up.

He looked at her in surprise. "You do not intend going back to the Bureau to do that yourself?"

"No," replied Elfraine diffidently. "I admit it; I am taking the coward's way out. I dislike goodbyes, and _our_ imminent farewell will be more than enough for me today."

"I had not intended going back myself," Nuada said.

"Oh!" exclaimed Elfraine as she shot him an amused look. "So you join me in taking the coward's way out," she teased, earning herself a sharp frown for her trouble. "Well, I suppose they'll discover our absence soon enough and make whatever inferences they wish," she concluded as she tried not to smile at his obvious dislike of being found wanting in any way.

Her words however had set Nuada to thinking. After the revelation last night about his father, he started to wonder now if he'd been too hard on his sister. They'd been so close once, and he suddenly found he wanted to at least say goodbye and see if he couldn't make a peace of sorts with her. He decided he'd return to the Bureau one last time after all. And then he would make his own enquiries on the shadow beasts, and finally set about securing the Throne of Bethmoora and uniting all his people behind him.

"I _will_ return to the Bureau," he announced, in a change of mind that surprised Elfraine. "Will you join me in taking the _honourable_ course, and come with me to make your farewells in person?"

"Oh!" said Elfraine, taken aback. "I... I don't know," she murmured, clearly unsure how to answer him.

Nuada waited with unnatural stillness whilst she considered his request. He found he wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to her yet, and if she agreed it would gain him a few more hours of her company.

"It means I'll have to tell Manning to his face that I'm breaking the Archives contract," Elfraine mused aloud. "He won't be pleased; I'm less than two weeks into what was supposed to be a three-month agreement."

She glanced down at Nuada, surprising a look of tense anticipation on his face, and made up her mind immediately as she realised she couldn't disappoint him. "Still, I intended doing that anyway before I changed my plans this morning so yes, I will join you in taking the honourable course," she told him with a smile. But her heart grew strangely heavy as a brief look of relief flickered in his eyes, and she suddenly knew it was time to utter the words neither of them seemed to want to say just yet.

"And now for the final matter, I think," she said, her expression becoming serious. "We shouldn't put it off any longer."

"Yes?" Nuada asked, with a slight frown.

"I would like to make our private goodbyes now. I don't want to do so in front of anyone else," Elfraine said quietly. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up then turned and held her hands out to Nuada.

He hesitated for a moment and then joined her, staring down on her face with an unfathomable look in his eyes as he took her outstretched hands.

"I count meeting you as... as something I will always treasure, despite our rather inauspicious beginnings,"she told him with a shaky smile. "You are a rare bright spot in four centuries that have... not always been easy." Her voice was no longer quite so steady. "And I won't ever forget you, Nuada. I wish you heart's ease and peace of mind, and all the happiness you surely deserve," she continued, with a look on her face that left no doubt she meant every word she said. Then she stretched up on tip toe and kissed him gently on each cheek.

For a moment, Nuada found he could not speak. He pressed both her hands to his lips and briefly closed his eyes against the unexpected feelings her words aroused in him. Then he fixed Elfraine with an intense look as he made his farewell to her. "You are... delightful and I wish you the same, Lady, and success in your journey too. My only regret is that we didn't have more time together. And please don't doubt this - you will never become lost amongst the hordes nor ever be a blurred face in the crowd. You will always stand bright and clear in my mind."

Elfraine gave him a solemn smile as she reached up and touched his face. "Thank you for that," she said softly even as she thought to herself that if his wish for her came true and she succeeded in her journey, he wouldn't know she'd ever existed.

Nuada took her in his arms and bent his head to give her one last, long kiss, imprinting the essence of her on his senses and in his memory... and then he finally released her and they stepped away from each other.

She picked up her clothes and started to get dressed whilst he quickly threw on his shirt and pants, and gathered up his boots before going into the living area to don his armour and weapons.

**... ...**

Some ten minutes later Elfraine walked out of the bedroom to join him... and stopped dead in her tracks. There in her living room was a tall, familiar-looking, blond-haired man dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She stood staring at him, her mouth gaping, as his light, golden brown eyes flashed her a look of amusement.

She recovered her wits and walked up to him to jab him sharply in the chest with her finger, as if she wasn't quite sure whether he was real or not.

He started slightly at her unexpected attack.

"What have you done to yourself?" she asked, a note of real concern colouring her voice.

"I... I thought we could walk to the BPRD," Nuada explained with an air of uncharacteristic reticence.

"I would like that," Elfraine assured him as a dreamy look briefly crossed her face. "However the question still remains; what have you done to yourself?"

"We would not enjoy our walk so much if I attracted any... undue attention so I've cloaked myself in a glamour to avoid it," he replied. "Do you not approve?" He sounded slightly surprised.

"No," she told him promptly. "I do not approve at all. Still... I suppose you have a reasonable enough excuse for it," she admitted as she eyed him dubiously.

Nuada wasn't sure he liked the word 'excuse'. Before he could say anything though, Elfraine was speaking again.

"Is that the only form you can take when you disguise yourself as a human or can you look like anyone you wish?" she asked curiously.

"I can take the appearance of any form I please, human or otherwise," he replied.

"Oh! That must come in handy!" she remarked, beginning to see the potential in such an ability.

"It has its uses," he agreed in a tone of faint amusement.

"Hmmm," murmured Elfraine as she started to turn away. She missed the sudden flash of devilment in his eyes.

She'd teased him mercilessly earlier and it struck Nuada that this was his opportunity to even the score. He swiftly cloaked himself in an entirely different glamour and waited.

Elfraine, meanwhile, walked to the kitchen counter and picked up her keys. She turned around... and promptly dropped the keys in shock. It was like looking at her reflection in a mirror! And as she stared at the exact image of herself, she was suddenly and thoroughly disconcerted by the lusty gleam in the eyes of her other self as she – or rather he - started to bear down on her with purposeful intent.

Elfraine took a nervous step back only to run up against the kitchen counter. "Don't you dare!" she cried out in disbelieving fascination as she held out a hand to fend off the amorous advances of her doppelganger.

"Come... give me a kiss, lover," purred the wanton creature lasciviously, ignoring Elfraine's plea and reaching out to take her in her arms.

"No!" shrieked Elfraine, half-laughing by now and frantically turning her head from side to side in an effort to avoid his – her own! – lips. She tried to push him away but he'd obviously lost none of his strength; he was as immovable as ever. "If... if you don't stop it this minute, I'll... I'll permanently part you from your Silverlance... and I am _not_ referring to the one that was leaning against this counter a little while ago!" she spluttered whilst trying to retain some semblance of dignity.

Her doppelganger only smirked at that and renewed his efforts to capture her mouth.

"Stop it! Now! It is _not_ funny!" she screeched as she tried to smother a laugh.

At which point Nuada left off his glamour and burst out laughing himself.

Elfraine caught her breath at the relaxed look of amusement on his face. He was obviously very pleased with himself, and she grudgingly admitted to herself it was a good jest though it wouldn't do to forgive him too quickly. However when she tried to frown at him, she only succeeded in making him want to kiss her and she forgot all about pretending to be annoyed with him as his dark lips moved warmly on hers.

"I did say it had its uses," he murmured when he finally lifted his head.

"You have a devilish mind," she replied breathlessly. "_I_ would not have thought of such a thing."

Nuada simply raised a brow at that before saying with casual gallantry, "Ah well, at least when I'm lonely and missing you I can still hold a mirror to my face and look on you, Lady."

His lightly-spoken words brought Elfraine up short, and she struggled to match his tone as she replied. "You may miss me from time to time; that's only fair. After all, I'll most certainly miss you. But don't ever be lonely, Nuada; that is _not_ a thought I like," she said softly as she reached up and touched his cheek.

He stopped dead at that but before he could say anything, she'd pulled away and was heading towards the door.

"Come along, Sir," Elfraine called back to him over her shoulder. "We'll lose another day if we tarry any longer."

So, it was back to 'Sir' now. But she was right, Nuada thought as he cloaked himself in a glamour once more and followed her out the door; he'd already lost enough time these last four months, and the four years before that. It was past time he set about restoring his people to their rightful place in this world.

They walked down the stairs and out to the street, and as they stepped into the crisp, clear day Nuada slipped his arm around Elfraine's waist and held her close as they made their way to the BPRD under the bright autumn sun.

**... ... ...**

They arrived at the Bureau to find it a hive of scurrying activity, and the first person they saw was John Myers, who was on his way to Director Manning's office.

He stopped though when he noticed them. "Oh! You're here at last, Elfraine," he remarked with a frown. "I don't think Manning knows you're late; he's been _way_ too busy this morning. If you hurry, you might be able to get away with it," he added helpfully.

Myers looked at Nuada nervously for a split second and then looked away; he certainly wasn't going to tell _him_ to hurry up much less wonder aloud why the Elven prince had just walked into the building with Elfraine and was looking at her almost... _fondly_.

"It seems a very industrious place today, John," remarked Elfraine. "What occasions all this activity?"

"The European agents have arrived. Manning didn't expect them until tomorrow and now he's panicking," explained Myers.

"What on earth for?" wondered Elfraine aloud. "I would have thought he'd be delighted they were early; after all, so few of us are," she added dryly.

"He wanted to impress them and had some sort of official welcome planned for tomorrow. He's been running around all morning trying to get it organised for this morning now, at 11am – which is in five minutes time," Myers observed, frowning at his watch. "Anyway, he's got everyone else running around with him."

"Well, we won't keep you from your own running around then," said Elfraine with a smile.

"Thanks!" he muttered darkly as he headed for the lifts. "Oh," he called out as he stopped and turned back to them. "Manning wants everyone in the Boardroom... now. I've already rounded up the others and I'm off to let the Director know everything's ready. You'd better get there before we arrive. He won't be happy if you interrupt his speech by walking in late." Without waiting for a reply, John started for the lifts again.

"Thank you for the warning," Elfraine called out after his retreating figure as Nuada muttered something uncomplimentary about the Director and his speech under his breath.

"At least we know where your sister is," Elfraine said to Nuada as she turned to him. "Shall we go and seek her out?"

"That is why we are here," he replied, looking down at her as he offered her his arm to escort her to the Boardroom.

Elfraine smiled up at him as she laid her hand on his arm, and they headed off to find Nuala.

**... ...**

There was a large crowd in the Boardroom when they arrived. Manning had ordered the attendance of not just the field agents but of almost every other person in the building from the lab technicians through to the general staff.

Nuada immediately spied his sister standing over near the far side of the room with Abraham, Miss Sherman, and the demon. He struck out in her direction, pulling Elfraine along with him.

Nuala started in alarm as she saw her brother heading purposefully towards her. He looked as if he had something to say to her and it wasn't bound to be anything good, she thought with a twinge of worry. As he got nearer though she noticed he seemed different somehow – less... angry perhaps. She looked closer and saw with surprise he was dragging Miss Somerled along by the hand. A small frown creased her brow as he reached her side.

"Good day, sister," he said in greeting.

"Good... good day, brother," she replied hesitantly.

"I would speak with you afterwards, if I may," he politely requested.

Nuala wondered at his unexpected civility and murmured her assent as she shot him a puzzled look. She noticed he still hadn't let go of Miss Somerled's hand.

Elfraine was about to make a similar request of Nuala and the others when John Myers approached their group.

"This shouldn't take too long at all," Myers told them with a grin. "The European agents have convinced Manning to keep it low key and not make a fuss. He's even dropped the speech now," he added to the relief of those listening. "They just want to mingle with the crowd and meet everyone informally."

"Well good for them!" said Hellboy emphatically, deciding he liked them already.

"Oh, Elfraine," said Myers as an afterthought. "You might be interested in this. One of the agents is British. He's a duke... or an earl, or something."

Elfraine merely gave him a polite smile.

"He doesn't expect us to bow to him, does he?" asked Hellboy suspiciously. " 'Cause I'm _not_ doing that!" he added with a frown.

"No, no. He's not like that," Myers rushed to assure him. "He's just a regular guy. He insists we call him Agent, same as everyone else, or just use his first name. We don't need to use his title."

"You'd have to wonder why he even bothered to mention it at all in that case," observed Elfraine offhandedly.

"So he's _not_ up his own ass then," said Hellboy as he threw the Elven prince a meaningful look.

"And a very nice arse it is too," Elfraine murmured under her breath as _she_ threw Nuada a naughty look.

Nuala was the only one apart from her brother who heard Elfraine's remark and she glanced at the other woman in stark surprise before turning to stare unabashedly at Nuada. While he didn't exactly look pleased at the overly familiar remark, he certainly wasn't giving Miss Somerled a verbal lashing on account of it either. What on earth was going on here, she wondered.

Nuada didn't know who to scowl at first, and decided to ignore all three of them.

At that moment there was a commotion on the other side of the room as Manning entered with Kraus and the European agents. "Can I have your attention people," the Director called out. The hum of conversation died down and he continued. "It's my pleasure to introduce you to our guests. They're from our European branch and they'll be with us until we get our numbers back up. This is Agent Gretheved; he'll be leading one of the field teams. And this is Agent Nanael; she's his 2IC."

Elfraine's head went up at the name 'Gretheved' and she froze for a moment. It was an unusual name and one she knew though she hadn't heard it in a long time. She strained to get a look at the agent in question however she wasn't particularly tall compared to most of the others gathered there and she couldn't see past the people standing in front of her. Manning and Kraus had started to walk around the room with the European agents by now though and she supposed she'd get to see them soon enough.

"Oh my goodness," whispered Liz. "He's _extremely_ easy on the eye!"

"He most certainly is," agreed Nuala as she stared at the tall, dark-haired man in the approaching entourage.

Hellboy and Abe turned to frown at them but the women were too caught up in their admiration of Agent Gretheved to notice so they gave up and scowled instead at the man who was by now the fond object of almost every female gaze in the room.

Elfraine also frowned at Liz and Nuala's words, and tried once more to get a look at the European agents. Suddenly someone in front of her shifted and she caught a glimpse jet black hair. Then the person moved again and she could no longer see anything. A vague feeling of unease started to spread through her body.

Determined now to see what the visitors looked like she stood on tiptoe as she tried to peer past the shoulders of the people in front of her, and as she was craning her neck one of them leaned across to make a comment to someone on his right. For the briefest of moments Elfraine had a clear view all the way down the room... and it was all she needed.

As she beheld the tall, dark-haired man with the hard, sensual face of a fallen angel and earthy green eyes that promised sinful pleasures without end, Elfraine's heart almost stopped and she suddenly struggled for breath. Her limbs felt numb and her stomach started to flutter alarmingly, and she could do nothing but stand there, transfixed to the spot.

Nuada, meanwhile, had noticed his sister and Miss Sherman's reaction to the male agent and his lips curled in contempt at the adoring looks on the women's faces. He turned his attention back to the party making its way along the room, silently cursing Manning for not being quicker with his introductions. Once his sister met the new agents he could talk privately with her, and then he'd finally leave this infernal place and set about continuing the fight for his people. He tried to push aside the feeling of disquiet at the thought that this would also be the last time he saw Elfraine Somerled.

Unable to ignore the sudden need to just look at her, Nuada glanced down and saw she'd gone completely still. He followed the line of her head, and a swift stab of savage anger caught him unawares as he noticed she seemed as taken with the European agent as his sister and Miss Sherman. Leaning forward to get a better view of her face, he viciously decided he'd do more than give her the spanking he'd been promising her if she wore the same besotted look they did.

But he stopped short when he saw her expression. She'd turned a ghastly ashen colour and had a sick look of horror in her eyes. Suddenly she clapped one hand to her mouth and one to her stomach, and tried not to dry-retch as her insides heaved. A fierce trembling seized her frame, and Nuada caught her just before she collapsed.

"Lady, compose yourself," he whispered urgently as he quickly pulled her back to the edge of the room, away from the rest of the assembled crowd.

Elfraine struggled to regain her self-possession, and gave him a desperate look.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, as he murmured soothingly in her ear. "Hush, mhuirnín."

She clung to him, and drew several deep draughts of air into her lungs as she got her breathing under control again. "Please, don't... don't let go of me," she whispered hoarsely when she could speak again.

"I won't," he promised swiftly as he tightened his hold on her.

Elfraine leaned into him and took several more deep breaths as she slowly recovered. The feeling in her limbs gradually returned, and her heaving stomach started to settle. Manning and his guests were almost upon them and she suddenly found the steel in her spine again. Straightening up, Elfraine placed her hands on Nuada's arms and looked up at him. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes filled with gratitude. She then turned back to the room, and he slipped his arm around her waist. He could feel the slight tremors that still coursed through her though they too were lessening now.

Nuada was about to ask her what was wrong when he glanced up. Manning had reached Anung Un Rama and was in the process of introducing him to the European agents. The male, Gretheved, happened to look past the demon's shoulder just as he was about to take Hellboy's outstretched hand, and he froze as his eyes fell on Elfraine. He looked utterly stunned for a moment and then a sick expression, very much like the one she'd just worn, settled on his face for several long seconds. He recovered quickly though and started towards them, leaving Manning spluttering over the sudden detour and the demon still waiting to shake his hand. Nuada's eyes narrowed as he wondered just what was going on.

Manning hurried after Gretheved, and Hellboy turned to scowl at the British agent's back. "So much for not being up his own ass!" he muttered under his breath.

"Agent Gretheved," exclaimed the Director as he attempted to regain the man's attention. "This is Prince Nuada and Miss...," he started to say.

"No introductions are necessary," interrupted Gretheved brusquely, cutting off the rest of Manning's words. "The lady and I already... _know_ each other," he said as he caught and held Elfraine's gaze; he didn't even look at Nuada. A slight sneer twisted his lips and then he inclined his head as he addressed her. "Your Grace."

Elfraine took a deep breath and stood ramrod straight. "It is Lady Wylde," she replied icily as she fixed him with a look of utter loathing.

Gretheved raised his brow mockingly. "I think you'll find a wife takes her husband's title, Duchess," he returned with a cool, smooth arrogance. "As you did when we wed all those years ago... madam wife," he added, his gaze spitefully malevolent as it flicked briefly to Nuada's arm about her waist.

Nuada stiffened at his words and instinctively tightened his hold on Elfraine as he started forward. "What, by the Gods, is going on here?" he demanded harshly though he had a feeling he already knew.

Elfraine pressed his arm but made no reply. Instead she regarded Gretheved with cold hauteur, rather as if he was something nasty she'd just stood in. "You mistake the matter, Rochforte," she drawled in a slightly bored tone. "I think _you_ will find that the bonds of matrimony were severed in the eyes of both God and man the night I strung your entrails from one end of London Bridge to the other, stuck your head on a pike over the southern gatehouse, and fed your privates to the castle pigs. Death had most assuredly parted us by the time I'd finished with you. Oh, and I was stripped of your title before they hung me - though I'd have given it back gladly. It is most definitely Lady Wylde... _not_ Duchess!"

And in that instant, Nuada knew without a doubt that he was looking at Elfraine Somerled's third husband... the black-hearted villain who'd murdered her daughter almost four hundred years ago.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

'Had we but world enough, and time' – Andrew Marvell, _To His Coy Mistress_, c. 1650.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart, darling.

In past ages in England, including the Elizabethan era, the heads of executed traitors were stuck on pikes on the southern gatehouse of London Bridge.

**Forms of address (titles and styles) **_(just in case anyone's confused by the names/titles.)  
><em>(Agent) Gretheved, 4th Duke of Rochforte – addressed as Your Grace, or simply Duke or Rochforte by his peers/family in the first instance, then Sir thereafter.  
>Elfraine Gretheved, Duchess of Rochforte – addressed as Your Grace, or Duchess by her peersfamily in the first instance, then Madam or Ma'am thereafter (married, obviously)  
>Elfraine Somerled, Countess of Wylde – addressed as Lady Wylde (her substantive title after her father died and before she married Rochforte. In this story the Letters Patent for the Earldom of Wylde allowed for inheritance in the female line.)<p> 


	26. Chapter 25

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 25**

Gretheved's features twisted with a deep, visceral hatred as he looked at Elfraine. The minute he saw her he knew the game had changed yet again, and his _new_ plans now also lay in ruins thanks to her. She was the one person in this world who knew anything of his past and her knowledge could lead to his downfall yet. "You little bitch! I never thought _you_ would be the consequence that awaited me," he spat out as he clenched his fists and took a menacing step towards her.

Nuada swiftly drew his sword and thrust Elfraine behind him as he started forward to deal with Gretheved. He'd told Elfraine last night he'd have killed the man had he known her in 1614 and it seemed he was about to get his chance now.

The Director quickly backed away but Gretheved merely raised a disdainful brow and sneered at Nuada as he twisted a plain black ring on the forefinger of his left hand. He whispered something under his breath that not even elven ears could make out.

Nuada suddenly froze, unable to move so much as an inch further forward. His sword arm felt strangely heavy, as if it were made of stone, and he couldn't lift it against the man in front of him. "By the Gods! What have you done?" he exclaimed as he glared furiously at the agent.

Gretheved gave him a look of contempt as he leaned in close and spoke in a low voice that only Nuada could hear. "You are my creature Silverlance, you and your sister both. You cannot move against me," he sneered.

At those words, Nuada suddenly knew. "You! You are the one who brought my sister and I back to life!" he snarled in a low, deadly voice. "Release me now!"

"Be quiet!... _Your Highness_," hissed Gretheved as he made a pass with his hand and silenced the Elven prince. "You've been a great disappointment to me, thanks in no small part to this interfering bitch!" he growled as he swung his gaze back to Elfraine.

Nuada suddenly found he could no longer speak. A thick, fierce rage rose in his gut and he bared his teeth in fury. The man – if he was indeed a man - would pay for his actions, he swore to himself.

Gretheved realised the situation was rapidly slipping out of his control. The others were too stunned at the unexpected turn of events to fully appreciate the connections the elf had just made but their confusion wouldn't last forever and their brains would start working soon enough. And once that great red baboon, Anung Un Rama, realised what was going on there would be precious little he could do to stop the demon. Gretheved was all too aware he had to make the most of his fleeting advantage before the tide turned against him; he needed to get the rune stone back and then get himself and Nanael out of here, preferably with a bargaining chip... and he knew just the one he wanted. He tamped down his anger and smoothed his features into a neutral expression.

"That reminds me," he said evenly as he stepped away from Nuada, giving no hint of the urgency which suddenly rode him. "Director, the rune stone if you please," he commanded, with a click of his fingers. "You no longer need it to control the prince now that I am here."

Manning, who was as confused as anyone, suddenly found himself the centre of attention and it wasn't a comfortable feeling. "Um... I... ah, I... I don't have it," he stuttered.

"What!" exclaimed Gretheved in angry disbelief as he spun round to pin the Director with a dark look. "Explain yourself!" he growled as he took several steps towards Manning.

"I... I gave it to her!" said the Director, quickly pointing to Elfraine.

"Manning, you are an idiot!" bit out Gretheved. He caught Nanael's eye and moved his head almost imperceptibly in Nuala's direction.

The tall, dark haired woman understood immediately and started to inch towards the princess.

Nuada was the only one who saw what was happening but he was powerless to say or do anything. He tried to reach out to Nuala with his mind but something was blocking him there as well. Their link had been weakened by death and was nowhere near as strong as it had been four years ago however he should have at least been able to get her attention. Now he could only grind his teeth in impotent fury.

Gretheved turned back to face Elfraine. "Give me the rune stone!" he ordered. He made a quick pass with his hands and then muttered some words under his breath as he twisted the plain black ring once again.

Elfraine was suddenly yanked out from behind Nuada, as if unseen hands had pulled her forward and were now forcing her towards Gretheved. "No!" she cried out, trying to dig her heels in but all the while sliding closer and closer to him. A small inner voice told her to do everything she could to prevent him from discovering she no longer had the rune stone.

Gretheved's lips curled in derision at her futile attempts to resist him, and he made a gesture with his hand to draw her nearer still. "My turn to tear you to pieces, _my love_," he whispered menacingly. "After we have a little... talk."

"I wish you luck in your efforts," Elfraine sneered with dark sarcasm. A familiar rush of adrenalin surged through her body as she prepared to meet Gretheved's threat and without thinking, she started to use the dragon magic to push through. Only now she was pushing through his power, not through death... and for the first time in four hundred years she was stunned to find the dragon magic actually did something other than keep her from her final rest. The invisible ropes pulling at her were suddenly severed and she fell back onto the floor.

A look of rage settled on Gretheved's face as he realised she'd somehow broken his spell. "How did you do that, you miserable little slut?" he hissed furiously.

"You can't surely be so stupid as to believe I'd tell you that, you prick!" Elfraine spat back contemptuously as she scrambled to her feet.

She spied Manning's worried face behind Gretheved, and shook her head in dismay. "Thomas Manning, you foolish man... you were dealing with the Devil and didn't even know it."

Elfraine's words unsettled Manning. "What do you mean?" he asked as he eyed Gretheved dubiously. He'd seen and heard enough now, and a nasty suspicion was starting to form in his mind.

"Pay her no heed," bit out Gretheved, playing for time. Nanael had almost reached the princess and only needed a few moments more. "_Lady Wylde_ is a murderous little bitch who's every bit as mad as her mother was."

"You're the murderous one, you bastard!" snarled Elfraine as she drew her dagger. "This filthy piece of shit killed my daughter!"

Startled looks of abhorrence appeared on the faces around him and Gretheved knew the game was finally up; he'd played it out for as long as he could.

Hellboy stepped forward, reaching out to seize the man, and Elfraine lunged towards Gretheved with her dagger. But they both stopped abruptly as Nuala cried out in pained surprise.

They all turned to look at the princess. Agent Nanael had Nuala pinned with her arm twisted up her back and a gun pointed to her head.

Gretheved quickly crossed to where the two women were standing and roughly grabbed Nuala's other arm, causing her to bite back a moan of pain. She was unable to hide the look of sheer terror in her eyes though.

Abe leapt forward. "If you want a hostage, take me," he called out urgently.

"Stay where you are... everyone!" Gretheved barked out as several other agents started towards him. "Nanael will put a bullet in your pretty little friend's head if anyone else moves." He twisted his Summoner's Ring, and the air around the trio suddenly seemed to stretch as small tendrils of glittering darkness started to appear about them.

The amorphous black wisps rapidly gained in shape and size, and then suddenly joined up to shroud Nuala and her captors from sight. For one brief moment every atom in the dark shadowy mass was flung apart and held suspended as if on the edge of time. Then they collapsed back into a dense black point of infinity before being sucked seemingly out of existence, leaving behind only an empty and somehow thinner space.

"What in the name of God did I marry all those years ago?" Elfraine whispered with horrified revulsion.

Nuada was abruptly released from the hold of Gretheved's magic, and he took an unsteady step forward as he looked desperately to where his sister had just stood captive.

"What happened to her?" asked Abe frantically as he too stared at the empty space in dismay.

"_He_ has some connection to der shadows!" exclaimed Kraus. "Zat is exactly what ve vitnessed in Greenland!"

"Then all hope is lost!" exclaimed Abe in horrified disbelief.

"It is _not_!" growled Nuada, refusing to admit the possibility. "He targeted my sister specifically. There were any number of people closer to his accomplice who would have done just as well if he only wanted a hostage. They took Nuala for a reason."

"Of course!" exclaimed Abe, quickly snatching at the Elven prince's tenuous thread of hope. "But where have they taken her?" he asked, his voice grave with worry. "We have nothing whatsoever to go on."

Nuada turned to Elfraine and seized her arms in a vice-like grip. "Do you have any idea where he may have taken my sister?" he asked urgently.

"I wish I did," she replied bitterly. "That filthy creature shouldn't be alive. I can't understand how it is he still breathes!"

"What about that castle... the one we found out about yesterday?" asked Hellboy, suddenly remembering the information the traitor had finally given up under interrogation the day before.

"Blackstone Castle," said Abe; there was a more hopeful note in his voice now.

"Blackstone Castle!" exclaimed Elfraine in surprise. This was the first she'd heard of the new information. "Yes... yes, he may well have taken her there," she said hastily as she gave the demon and the ichthyo sapien a sharp look. "It's his ancestral seat, or at least it was when I was wed to him. I lived there for some time after we married."

"Where is it?" asked Nuada impatiently.

"Near Cross Fell, the highest peak in the Pennine Hills in northern England," Elfraine replied. She grabbed hold of Nuada as she looked up at him. "We can go now!" she exclaimed. "You could have us there in a matter of minutes."

Nuada was brought up short by her words. "_You_ are not going anywhere," he told her in no uncertain terms. "I will fare better on my own... without the need to watch out for you."

Elfraine bridled at that, and was about to tell him he might well find the shoe was on the other foot when Hellboy beat her to it.

"What are you gonna do if he freezes your ass again, prince?" asked Hellboy. "I think we better come along too... to watch out for _you_," he added with a smirk.

"Most certainly!" averred Abe. "We are _not_ staying behind. Nuala needs all of us."

Nuada snarled in frustration. They were right; Gretheved obviously had some sort of power over him and that being the case, he wouldn't be much good to his sister if he was trapped by the creature's magic again. "Very well," he agreed with bad grace as he looked at Hellboy and Abe. "You two may come."

"But not you!" he bit out, swinging his gaze back to Elfraine who had just opened her mouth to say her piece. "Don't argue with me on this," Nuada warned in a low voice as, still holding her arms, he leant down to speak to her.

"You cannot mean to leave me here!" she whispered furiously. "How can I sit by, knowing Gretheved still lives? I have to make certain of his death once and for all!"

"As you did four hundred years ago?" Nuada jeered.

Elfraine flinched as if struck, and he immediately regretted his thoughtless taunt as a haunted look suddenly appeared in her eyes.

"Forgive me, Lady," he said quickly. "I did not mean that. I would prefer it if you remained here... where you are safe. And I promise you... I will bring you his head if I find him."

Before she could respond, Nuada lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. Then he set her away and swiftly crossed over to Hellboy and Abe. "We are going... now!" he said shortly as he grabbed their arms.

Everyone started to talk at once.

"But... but you're not following standard procedure," Manning pointed out with concern.

"Oh, shut up! ... sir!" snapped Abe.

"Abe, I've just downloaded the castle's coordinates and put them into my phone's GPS," said Myers as he tossed him his phone.

"You kissed her hand!" Hellboy exclaimed. "What have we been missing?" he asked Nuada with a sly grin.

"I refuse to be left behind," Elfraine cried out as she started forward smartly.

Nuada ignored the lot of them, and Elfraine wasn't quick enough. As she reached out to grab hold of him, he suddenly disappeared - taking Hellboy and Abe with him - and she was left standing there with only a handful of thin air and a furious look on her face.

A brief hush fell over the room, and then the talking began in earnest.

"Silence!" called out Kraus. "Silence!" Everyone stopped and looked at him. "You vill all return to your posts," he ordered. "Now!"

"Yes!" said Manning. "Everyone back to work. We'll sort this out."

As people started to reluctantly move off, Kraus turned to Manning and said, "I think ve need to compare notes, Director. Ve need to find out as much about Gretheved as ve can."

"Good idea, Kraus," agreed Manning, glad to have something to focus on. He couldn't believe he'd been fooled so badly by Gretheved. Still, he wasn't the only one, he thought to himself as he looked at Elfraine.

"You too, Miss Somerled," said Kraus. "And John and Liz as vell. Shall ve use your office, Director?"

"Yes, of course," replied Manning promptly, and they started to move off.

"Anything you want to share?" Liz whispered to Elfraine as they followed Manning, Kraus and Myers out of the room.

Elfraine shot her a questioning frown.

"Nuada _kissed_ your hand!" said Liz pointedly. Her face wore the same knowing look as Hellboy's.

"Nuada can kiss my bloody arse!" Elfraine muttered, still seething at being left behind.

"Well, he might if you ask him nicely," teased Liz with a quick grin before she hurried off after the others.

Elfraine glowered at the firestarter's retreating back; she was having trouble deciding just who she disliked most at that particular moment. And then there was the unbelievable fact of her third husband's continued existence. Kraus and Manning could be damned; she needed some peace and quiet to think it all over and her apartment would be just the place for that, not the Director's office.

**... ... ...**

One minute Nuada, Hellboy and Abe had been standing amid the noise and confusion in the Boardroom of the New York branch of the BPRD, with the day not even half over, and the next they found themselves in the cold, dark wood of a small valley in the north of England, with the last rays of the setting sun fading fast through the forest canopy. On one side the great shadowy mass of Cross Fell loomed over the smaller peaks of the valley, the night fog already rolling in to shroud the summit plateau, while a fast-flowing stream twisted and tumbled past on the other side. And all about, the trees sighed and whispered as a strengthening wind snared them in restless chatter.

Abe got their bearings on the GPS and then selected the coordinates John had programmed into the phone. He looked at Nuada in some surprise. "We're very near to the castle, Your Highness," he said, impressed. "It's only a mile or so in that direction." He pointed upstream, to the path they had to follow.

Nuada made no reply as he struck out for their destination. Although the clouds hid the full moon, he had little difficulty seeing in the darkened landscape and he travelled quickly, leaving Hellboy and Abe to scramble after him. The terrain rose steeply for some distance until it levelled off not far from the castle, and after some hard climbing they'd reached the edge of the forest. Bursting through into the clearing, they beheld Blackstone Castle... and their hearts sank at the sight.

The clouds had scattered by now, and pale, silvery moonlight lit the jagged, slate-coloured stone walls of the castle Keep. They rose over a hundred feet into the air and jutted out sharply from the scarp face of the cliff behind. Gaping black holes, windows once, stared out over the valley below in a silent, crumbling vigil. The great staircase had long since collapsed and none of the upper floors remained. All that was left upright of the rest of the castle were the last few arches of a Gloriette at the base of the Keep, and it was clearly many centuries since the vast, deserted ruin had been in any fit state for human habitation. There was no sign of Nuala, and the hope that had flared so eagerly within them quickly died. They walked up to the ruins with disbelieving looks on their faces.

"Damn!" swore Nuada fiercely as he slammed his hand in frustration against one of the rough, cold stone walls. He abruptly convulsed with a keen jolt of awareness, and looked around frantically. "She is here!" he whispered in harsh bewilderment.

Abe was too far gone in his own dark thoughts to pay any heed to Nuada but Hellboy heard him well enough. "What do you mean?" he asked as he looked around. He couldn't see anyone.

"Nuala... she is here!" repeated Nuada more loudly, frowning in confusion.

The Elven prince's words pierced his consciousness, and Abe looked up sharply. "Where is she?" he asked urgently as he too looked around.

"I... I don't know. But I can feel her presence," murmured Nuada as he tried to make sense of it. "And... and something else besides," he added, frowning. It was dark and malevolent, and he guessed it was Gretheved though he couldn't be certain.

Abe walked over to the stone wall and laid his blue hand on it alongside Nuada's white one, and he too suddenly felt Nuala's presence. "You're right!" he exclaimed as hope sprung to life once again. "She _is_ here!"

Nuada gave him a fierce scowl; he didn't like the reminder of the connection Abraham had to his sister.

"Well, let's look for her then," said Hellboy pragmatically. "I'll take this side and Abe, you take the other. And you can check out things up there, prince," he added, pointing to the escarpment. "Meet back here in half an hour," he called out over his shoulder as he stepped into the ruins to start his search.

Abe quickly made for the other side of the castle while Nuada started his ascent of the cliff face. It was a difficult climb and though it didn't take him long, he was breathing hard by the time he reached the top. He'd seen nothing out of the ordinary on his way up, and it was the same with the view from the summit. The far side of the peak sloped gently to a densely-wooded tract of hilly land beyond which lay flat fields that twinkled every now and then with the occasional lights from the farm houses and small hamlets scattered about the place. Turning back to the castle-side of the hill, Nuada had a clear view of the slope they'd just climbed; that way lay in darkness. From his vantage point, he could see that the valley sheltering the castle was a small, tight one which could easily be missed from below, and there were no signs of any type of habitation within its close folds. It was a truly isolated place.

As he stared intently at the scene below trying to discern something... anything that could help them, a great wave suddenly seemed to ripple through the castle ruins causing them to shimmer briefly. Nuada blinked but when he looked again, all was as it had been. He shook his head and fixed his unwavering gaze on the ruins once more as a suspicion started to form in his mind. The other presence he'd felt began to make sense now and as he watched, his suspicion was confirmed. Twice more the castle seemed to ripple, and he realised there was a deep, concealing magic lying over the place. It was of a type he'd never encountered before, and he thought of Gràinne as he realised he'd need to seek her advice. With one last look about him, he decided he'd learnt as much as he was going to up here and in the flash of an eye, he stood below once more just as the demon stepped forth from the ruins.

"There's nothing in there," said Hellboy in disgust as he reached the Elven prince. "Just a pile of rubble! Did you have any luck?"

Nuada regarded Anung Un Rama for a long moment as he debated just how much to tell him. But before he could make up his mind, Abraham emerged from the other side of the Keep.

The ichthyo sapien had divested himself of his boots and jacket, and was dripping wet. He was pulling slimy strands of weed off his arms and torso as he walked over to them.

"Whew!" exclaimed Hellboy as Abe reached them. "Whadda ya been swimmin' in? It stinks!"

"There's a stream on the far side of the ruins. The water is... bad. It flows from under the cliff, from some sort of cavern but I couldn't get in to explore it. Something was stopping me - I don't know what," Abe told them with a frown. "I felt Nuala's presence too. It was even stronger down there. I just couldn't find a way through to her."

"We'll figure it out, Blue," said Hellboy reassuringly. "Least you got a better fix on her now. She's somewhere near the stream - maybe below ground."

In that instant Nuada made up his mind to tell them what he knew. He realised Abraham had been right earlier; Nuala would need the help of all of them, and this was no time to be keeping secrets. "There is a spell of concealment lying on this place," he told them. "If we can break it, we will find Nuala."

"Can you do that now?" asked Abe hopefully.

"No," admitted Nuada. "It's a magic I've never seen before. I will need to seek advice on what to do."

"Kraus can help with that," stated Hellboy. "Manning's always telling us how great he is!"

"I may have to ask him yet but I have my own sources in the Troll Market to try first," Nuada replied.

"Oh yeah?" said Hellboy with a grin. "Ain't you just fulla secrets, prince. Does Manning know about these 'sources'?

Nuada didn't bother to answer that. "There is nothing further we can do here for the moment. We need to go back and see what else we can discover."

"Yes," agreed Abe. "And you should talk to Miss Somerled about Gretheved. It may well be she holds some piece of information which is more important than she knows."

"That is true," said Nuada, deciding to make Elfraine his first order of business on their return. He grimaced slightly as he realised she was not likely to be very pleased with him for leaving her behind and in truth, now he'd had time to think on it, bringing her along might not have exposed her to such danger as he'd first feared. She'd managed to break Gretheved's hold on her, which was more than he'd done, and she couldn't be killed or badly hurt for long. But her reaction when she'd discovered her third husband still lived told him that Gretheved was an extremely large chink in her armour, and he had an uneasy feeling about her having anything to do with the man until they knew exactly what they were dealing with. And the sooner they got back to New Jersey, the sooner they could start trying to find that out.

Nuada grabbed hold of Hellboy's arm and reached out for Abraham's but Abe took a quick step backwards.

"What's up?" asked Hellboy with a frown.

"You two should go back but my place is here," Abe replied in a voice that brooked no argument. "I won't leave Nuala, and someone should stay... just in case."

"Good idea!" agreed Hellboy. "Watch your back though, buddy. This place has a nasty feel about it."

An unexpected flare of grudging respect for Abraham took Nuada by surprise, and he looked at the ichthyo sapien through narrowed eyes; the amphibian certainly wasn't wanting in courage. "What weapons do you carry?" he asked Abe, as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"The Bureau's standard-issue gun, and a knife," replied Abe.

"Which may or may not be fit for the purpose," murmured Nuada in a thoughtful tone. He swiftly drew his dagger and held it out to Abe. "Here, take this. It's Elven silver. It could well be more effective than your gun or your knife against anything you might have to face here."

"Th... thank you," stammered Abe in surprise as he took the weapon.

"I will want it back when I return," Nuada told him shortly.

"Of course," replied Abe as he tucked the dagger into his belt.

Nuada looked at the ruins one last time. His sister was hidden in there somewhere and he'd tear it down with his bare hands, stone by stone, if that's what he had to do to find her. It crossed his mind that this had been Elfraine's home once, some four hundred years ago, and he wondered briefly what she'd made of the dark and forbidding place when she was Lady of the castle. He'd find out soon enough and knowing what little he did of her history with Gretheved, he could only hope he didn't cause her too much distress when he pressed her for the details... because press her he would if he had to. With a final nod to Abraham, he took hold of Anung Un Rama's arm once again and they were suddenly gone.

Abe stood there for a few minutes and then stirred himself to action. It was going to be a long night, he thought as he looked around for a suitable place to bed down... not that he anticipated getting much sleep. The dank water of the stream didn't present a particularly appealing resting place, and something on dry ground would have to suffice. He quickly spied a spot that looked like it might do well enough and was about to settle in when he caught a glimpse of red out amongst the trees and heard a faint thudding sound coming from the distance. He walked over to investigate but stopped short as a memory from their recent trip to Greenland stirred; a frisson of horror ran down his spine as he realised just what the strange red glow now moving rapidly in his direction was. He quickly turned towards the dark, fetid waters of the stream on the other side of the Keep and prayed for two things: that he could get there in time, and that the Hounds of Odin couldn't swim.

**... ... ...**

Elfraine glanced briefly at Goblin as she paced the floor of her apartment. She envied the cat his untroubled repose, basking as he was in the shaft of warm afternoon sunlight pouring into the room. It had been two hours since Nuada and the others had left, and she was on edge with not knowing what was happening. She didn't hear the tapping on the balcony door at first but the knocking became more insistent and the sharp raps suddenly cut through her tortuous speculations. She abruptly stopped her restless pacing and looked up to see Nuada on the terrace. Her eyes narrowed sharply for a moment but then a sudden feeling of relief swamped her anger, and she went over to let him in.

"Did you find your sister?" she asked anxiously as she opened the door.

"No, but I now know where she is," he replied, stepping past her into the room.

"Blackstone Castle," whispered Elfraine, not really surprised. It had been Gretheved's favourite haunt when she knew him; a lonely and isolated place... the sort of place, far from the prying eyes of the world, where he could go about his unholy business without interruption. She shivered as she thought of how Nuala must feel at this moment and could only hope Gretheved was mindful of the fact that, unlike herself and her daughter four hundred years ago, the Elven princess had family and friends who would see that he paid a steep price if he harmed so much as a hair on her head.

"She is somewhere in the castle," Nuada affirmed as he turned to face her. "I could sense her presence... as could Abraham. But Gretheved has concealed the place under a dark magic, and all we could see were ruins. We need to break his spell." He paused and reached out to cup Elfraine's face in his hands. His expression was shuttered but his voice was gentle enough. "And to do that, we need to find out as much about him as we can."

Elfraine took his meaning immediately. The minute Gretheved had taken Nuala she'd known someone would expect it of her at some point. It was another reason why she'd left the BPRD instead of going with Manning and Kraus after Nuada and the others had gone. The memories of those long-distant events, as clear and sharp as if they'd only happened yesterday, were bad enough. But to talk of them... that was something she'd _never_ done. She realised though that she had to put aside her own feelings and tell them all she knew for Nuala's sake. And for the last two hours, in addition to racking her brains for an explanation as to how and why Gretheved was still alive, she'd been trying to find the words to tell her tale.

She reached up now and grasped Nuada's wrists. "I know," she whispered with a look that was an odd mix of despair and resignation. "I would just ask for a little more time to... to compose my thoughts."

His thumbs slowly brushed Elfraine's cheeks as he looked down at her, and she could see the regret in his eyes. But there was no mistaking the firm resolve in his voice as he gave her his answer. "I am sorry Lady Wylde but you have no more time." He released her and dropped his hands back to his sides.

"Very well," she said quietly; it was, after all, nothing less than she'd expected. "But first, tell me one thing," she requested, as she looked up at him.

"If I can," Nuada replied cautiously.

"I... I made _certain_ he was dead that night so how is it he is still alive?" Elfraine asked. "I now have some sympathy for how you must have felt that morning in the Archives room when you discovered your friend hadn't put as permanent an end to me as you'd hoped," she added darkly.

Nuada winced slightly at that but before he could make a response, Elfraine continued. "Speaking of that morning, you wondered whether I was an angel or a demon... or a witch or a shapeshifter, or even Undead. Is it possible he is one of those?"

"Neither a witch nor a shapeshifter could manage such a thing," Nuada replied.

Elfraine gave him a look of surprise. "If you know that, then why did you think I might be one?" she asked.

"I was trying to trap you into giving yourself away," he admitted.

"Oh! I see," murmured Elfraine. "How very clever. You must have been quite disappointed when your ploy didn't work."

"Not at all," Nuada assured her though his look belied his words. "I at least eliminated some possibilities."

"Well, do you think he's an angel or a demon then?" she asked.

"If he is then he's not like any I've ever met, and he wasn't cloaking himself in a glamour to evade detection," Nuada replied.

"And he's not of the Undead either," Elfraine remarked. "There were never any signs of vampirism about him when I knew him, and when I killed him – or at least when I thought I killed him – if he'd been a vampire that would have seen an end to him. His heart was well and truly stabbed and cut into little pieces. If I knew how he cheated death, I might be able to find a way to finish the job properly. Are you sure you don't know a way he could have done it?" she asked, determined to find an answer if she could.

Nuada gave her a sharp look. "Assuming he is human, there is one way that I know of," he replied slowly. "The Fledh Ghoibhnenn."

The minute the words left Nuada's mouth, Goblin leapt up from his sun-drenched spot and set up a fierce yowling as he swiftly prowled back and forth before the terrace doors.

Startled, Nuada and Elfraine spun around towards the cat. Goblin stared up at them as he continued his unearthly wailing and paced around the floor, swishing his tail.

Elfraine quickly gathered him up and turned to the terrace, scolding as she did so. "Goblin, I haven't time for your bad-temper today," she informed him as she opened the door and put him out. He didn't go very far; he merely walked a step or two then turned and sat before the shut door, staring through the glass and fixing Elfraine with his baleful yellow gaze.

"Now, what were you saying?" Elfraine asked Nuada with keen interest. Here might be an answer, and with it a way to dispose of Gretheved once and for all.

"The feast of Goibhniu. Before your kind pushed us to the edges, it was held once every twelve months in Tír n'Aill, the Other-world. Any mortal who drinks Goibhniu's mead or eats the fruit of the trees in Tír n'Aill becomes immortal. Such a person will not age, though like the fae they still remain vulnerable to a killing blow," Nuada explained. "It is rare that a mortal finds their way to Tír n'Aill but perhaps Gretheved somehow managed it."

"But I dealt him many a killing blow that night in 1615," pointed out Elfraine. "I poisoned him and then I stabbed him, and then I cut him to pieces with his own sword. There was precious little left by the time I'd finished with him. The Fledh Ghoibhnenn cannot have been how he became immortal," she concluded.

She looked around briefly as Goblin set up his howling again outside on the terrace. "What on earth is the matter with that infernal creature?" she muttered under her breath before turning her attention back to Nuada.

"You're right," he admitted with a frown. "I don't doubt you made a most thorough job of him. "The only other way I can think of then is that he became immortal in much the same way you did."

"I suppose that could have happened," conceded Elfraine. "But I think it unlikely."

"Why is that?" he asked.

"After I... decorated London Bridge and fed the pigs, I returned to our rooms and sat with his remains until morning," she explained.

"You did not flee?" asked Nuada with some surprise.

"No, I did not. I was more than ready to... to face the consequences of my actions, and there was nothing more for me to do but wait," Elfraine said quietly. "I was immortal by then but didn't yet know it otherwise I probably wouldn't have bothered with the waiting – there would not have been much point. No, if Gretheved had been made immortal in the same way I was, he would have recovered before dawn. I can assure you when the sun rose the next morning he was still a scattered pile of flesh and bone."

"Then I know of no other way he could have cheated death," Nuada said. He paused and pinned Elfraine with a hard look. "I've answered your question... and now it's time for you to tell me all you know of him," he added implacably.

The moment could be put off no longer. Elfraine inclined her head and walked over to the desk beside the map-covered wall of the room. She still didn't have the words to tell her tale but it no longer mattered. As she'd been talking to Nuada, it occurred to her there were probably no better words than those she'd written in 1614 and 1615. Bending down, she opened the bottom drawer of the desk and took out three old, tattered leather-bound books. She put first one and then another on the desk top, and placed the third one back in the drawer.

Taking a deep breath, Elfraine turned to face Nuada. "I kept a diary in those days," she told him. "What's written between these covers is probably the best account there is of what happened that year. You may read them if you wish, and then I'll answer any questions you might have."

Nuada walked over to the desk. He looked down at the ancient tomes and then up into her anxious face. "Very well," he agreed. She was right; there were likely to be details in the diaries that she'd forgotten with the passage of time... and he was more than willing to spare her the pain of recounting those days if he could.

Gratitude and relief flashed in Elfraine's eyes. "Thank you," she said quietly. "This is the first record," she told him, picking up one of the old books and holding it out hesitantly. "I... I thought it important to keep an account of my daughter's early life. It was... well, it was something I'd hoped to share with her when she was older." She fell silent for a moment then shook her head and carried on. "But we were so hard pressed for funds in those days I couldn't afford to purchase a book whose sole purpose would be to serve as a diary. My one extravagance then was to take up some of the room in the estate ledger for my observations. I'm afraid you'll find a lot of rather uninteresting information in this one – harvest and stock records, and farm accounts and the like. But in amongst all of that is a record of our lives... and there may be something useful in it."

Nuada pressed Elfraine's hand as he took the book from her. "Thank you," he said gently.

She gave him a small half-smile. "It's a similar case with this second one," she told him, as she held it out next. "This book though was my family's Bible rather than an estate ledger. I'm not altogether certain you'll find the printed words in here any more interesting than the farm accounts; I know I no longer do," she added cynically. "Anyway, once again I used whatever space there was to record the comings and goings of our daily lives, and there is much more of Gretheved in this one."

Nuada took it from her. "What of the third book?" he asked.

"Oh... it's... it's not a diary; it has nothing of Gretheved in it," Elfraine replied, with a fleeting frown. "Please, have a seat," she invited as she gestured to the couch. "I'll leave you to your reading," she added with a small, tight smile. Taking the chair opposite, she picked up a half-finished piece of embroidery - an intricate and colourful medieval pattern of flowers, birds and scrolls - and tucked her feet under her as she went to work on it.

Nuada set the books on the couch, and discarded his weapons and armour. He looked at Elfraine's bent head and on impulse walked up to her. Crouching down before her, he placed one hand over hers, stilling her work, and lifted her chin with his other. "Gretheved will be dead soon enough," he promised. "And this time we'll see to it he stays dead," he added in a chilling voice. Then he cupped the back of her head with one hand and pulled her close, angling his own head to gain better access to her mouth.

He'd only meant it to be a brief kiss but the minute he tasted her he wanted so much more, and he found himself unable to pull away. A sharp wave of desire knifed through him as Elfraine parted her lips on a soft moan and deepened their kiss, and an aching tension settled low in his belly. For a long moment he gave in to the need to touch her and taste her but he was only too painfully aware that for Nuala's sake they didn't have time to see it through, and he found the strength to lift his head. He felt a stab of guilt at the tight, yearning look on Elfraine's face; her need, like his, would have to go unanswered for the moment. "Forgive me, Lady," he said in a rough voice. "I should not have started something we cannot finish just yet. Nuala is depending on us and we can't afford to be distracted."

Elfraine drew a shuddering breath as she struggled to compose herself. "You're right," she said when she could speak again. "And I, of all people, should know that. It's just... when I'm in your company, I find myself very easily distracted," she admitted, finding herself in danger of being distracted all over again, this time by the sudden flare of heat in his eyes.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," Nuada murmured as he lightly traced her lips with a calloused finger.

"I'll look forward to it," replied Elfraine, unable to look away from him.

He picked up her sewing, which had fallen to the floor, and handed it back to her.

"Th... thank you," she said, suddenly and unaccountably shy under his intense regard.

Nuada inclined his head then rose and took his seat on the couch opposite. He picked up the old estate ledger and opened it carefully and, after one last look at Elfraine, began to turn the pages of her past.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Fledh Ghoibhnenn: (Irish Mythology – "The Feast of Goibhniu") an Otherworld feast held by the god Goibhniu, who uses his supernatural powers to craft steel weapons. Any mortal who partakes of the feast and drinks Goibhniu's special ale becomes immortal.


	27. Chapter 26

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 26**

The ink on the brittle, yellowed pages was faded but Nuada could still make out the words. The first entry in the book was dated January 3rd, 1610 and going by what she'd told him last night, she'd obviously started the ledger not long after returning to Miles Cross Hall with her daughter on receiving the news of her second husband's death at sea.

Elfraine glanced up from her embroidery and saw he had the ledger open at the first page. "May twenty ninth in the year sixteen hundred and fourteen," she said quietly.

He looked up and raised his brow in question.

"That's when I first met Gretheved," she explained. "May twenty ninth, sixteen hundred and fourteen." Then she bent her head and resumed her stitching.

Some dates were never forgotten, Nuada thought to himself as he carefully turned to the entry for that day some four hundred years ago.

_**Miles Cross Hall, May 29**__**th**__**, 1614  
><strong>We had a most productive time of it this day. We went to Langham's field at dawn and made a good start on tending the crops. They are free of weeds for the moment and this summer's harvest should be sufficient for our needs. We even hope to have some barley spare to sell at market this year. _

_The children helped at first but after an hour or so Jamie Langham remembered he'd seen a large fish hiding close by the old willow tree down at the stream, and the older children were soon off to try and catch it. We let them go readily; they've worked as hard as anyone these last few weeks, helping where they can... but alas, we did _not_ have fish for supper. Fortune was most insistent that she be allowed to go with them; she tells me her proper place is with the older ones now that she's five, and she promised not to go near the water. Clemence Fitton, a sensible girl of ten, said she'd keep watch on Fortune, and so I gave her permission to go with the others though time passed most slowly until she was back safe with me._

_Not long past noon a hunting party from Lord Harleston's estate came riding by. Anne Sparrowe told me last week that Harleston had guests from London, come to escape the outbreak of plague which has been visited on that city. Harleston, I think, will be very pleased with himself. He has a duke in residence, Guy Gretheved, 4__th__ Duke of Rochforte, and no doubt has him in mind for one of his daughters. Rochforte and several of the lords stopped to talk to us for some minutes though Harleston made every effort to hasten them on. _

_Harleston no longer seems as neighbourly as he once did... largely, I suspect, because I turned him down last month when he offered to mount me as a mistress. He considers his wife no impediment to such an arrangement; I consider her an insurmountable, and entirely convenient, obstacle. I believe I was polite in my refusal. _

_After the hunting party left, Rochforte was the subject of much discussion amongst us women. He is very well favoured in face and figure, and we spent some time assessing his merits. The time spent on his faults was considerably less; he does not appear to have any, though I'm sure that cannot be the case. It was generally agreed he is the most handsome man any of us have ever seen though there was some disagreement over his best feature. Four were for his eyes, three – including myself - for his shoulders, one for his lips, and one for his hair. I will not write what Janet Sedley was for. And so the eyes have it! The men were not pleased with our speculations, and we desisted and returned to our work. _

_I must say it is strange though that in all my years at Court I never did meet Rochforte. I knew all the other lords in his party. Anne, who is a very reliable source of information on such matters, says he has been much abroad, and I suppose too there are his great estates to attend to. And as well, I have not been to Court in four or five years. No doubt these are the reasons why I am only meeting him now for the first time._

_**... ...**  
><em>

Elfraine glanced up and surprised a scowl on Nuada's face. "Have you found something already?" she asked eagerly.

"No," he replied shortly. "I have read of his eyes, his _shoulders_, his hair, and his lips," he sneered, "but nothing about what weapons he carried or what sort of adversary he might be, or whether he had any sign of magic about him."

"Oh!" exclaimed Elfraine, a little embarrassed as she suddenly recalled some of what she'd written all those years ago. "I didn't know then that such details might be important four centuries later," she said with a touch of sarcasm. "If I had, you can be sure I would have recorded them."

He merely gave her a hard, glittering look and returned to his reading.

_**June 1**__**st**__**, 1614.  
><strong>It is my thirty fourth birthday, and I've had fine, warm weather to mark it as well as a day's respite from the fieldwork on account of it being the Lord's Day also. I find it strange to think I am likely now well past the midpoint of my life; I swear I feel no differently than I did when younger though my glass tells me another thing entirely. I would like to think I still had thirty or so years ahead of me if only to see Fortune at my age now and know she is happy with her husband and children, having made a good choice with the former and been blessed with the latter. Of course, if I live only another fifteen years I can at least guide her in her choice of husband. I would dearly love to see my grandchildren born though and know something of them. I only hope I don't die whilst she's still a child; I am all she has and I can't bear to think of her being alone in this world. _

_I was watching her with her playmates several days ago and it struck me that Jamie Langham, or someone like him, might make her a decent husband. He has a steadiness of character and a good heart that should serve him, and his future wife, well... assuming he continues on his present trajectory and is not knocked off course by a wild shot from fate. It does not matter that he has no lands or title; I'll supply those, or rather Fortune will when I am gone. What counts is that he's reliable, loyal and has a concern for his wife and children. God forbid she should end up with husbands such as I did. And she will not be wed before she is at least twenty, which means Jamie will be twenty five. But that is many years away yet, and I get ahead of myself. However it might pay me to keep an eye on the young lad and help where I can... though with my circumstances such as they are, I don't know that I'll be of much use._

_I saw Rochforte again today, this time at church. We arrived late, due to being held up with our morning chores – the livestock taking longer to feed than usual - and walked in as the Reverend Mathias Coffyn was delivering a thundering sermon denouncing the poor habits of worship amongst his congregation. He seemed particularly exercised by the fact that a good number of his parishioners were more devout in their attendance at the alehouse than they were in their attendance at God's House. At the sight of Fortune and I, he added tardiness to his list of complaints and looked set to spend some time on that failing next._

_There was plenty of space in the pews at the back, and we were about to quietly take our seats – and our admonishment for being late - when to my great surprise Rochforte came forward and offered me his arm. _

"_Lady Wylde," he said, "would you and your daughter do me the honour of sitting with my party?" _

_The vicar left off his scolding, and all eyes turned to us. Mathias looked mightily tempted to add another thing to his list but was none too keen to denounce a duke. Rochforte knew this of course; he had an amused gleam in his eye and a small smile about his lips as he waited for my reply and what could I do but return his look and answer him 'yes'? He seated us and took his place beside me, and when he asked to share my hymnbook I discovered another of his merits; he has a fine voice. He was very kind to Fortune during the course of the sermon, and she appears as pleased with him as I am. Today's service was a particularly enjoyable one despite the inauspicious start._

_Anne informed me later there was great surprise when Rochforte's party walked into church this morning, which I would have seen for myself had I not been late. He is apparently not known for his devotion. She quizzed me closely on every word that passed between us during the service, and no doubt the particulars of our conversation have been much discussed throughout the village now. I wonder if he'll attend next Sunday's service; I hope so. I wish too that I'd a better dress to wear, or at least one I haven't mended quite so much._

__**... ...**__

Elfraine found she was having trouble concentrating on her embroidery; against her will, her eyes kept returning to the estate ledger resting on Nuada's lap instead. Though she'd traversed the past many times in her mind, she'd never gone back to actually read the words she'd written all those years ago. Now however, she was struck with a morbid curiosity about her record of those days though she knew that to give in only risked further twisting the blades of guilt and grief stuck fast in her heart.

She risked a glance at Nuada's face and saw he was at least no longer scowling. He had a strange look on his face though and she wondered what he'd just read. Placing her sewing on the floor, she got up and wandered over to stand behind him.

A brief flicker of his eyes was the only sign Nuada gave of noticing her movement, and she was so engrossed in her own thoughts she missed it entirely.

Elfraine peered over his shoulder and got a shock to see just how much the only record of her daughter's existence had deteriorated over the course of four hundred years; no doubt the pages of the Bible were in a similar state. She couldn't make out the faded ink of the words from where she stood and had to lean in closer to decipher them. Taking a steadying breath, she started to read what she'd written.

She hadn't made out more than a half dozen words when a hand shot out and seized her by the wrist, startling her. Elfraine looked up from the ledger to see Nuada staring at her with a questioning frown. "I... I've haven't read those words since I wrote them," she said hesitantly by way of explanation.

He was silent for a moment as he took in her look of quiet anxiety, and then he drew her round to stand before him, "Sit by me and read them now then," he said softly as he picked up the old Bible and moved it to make space for her on the couch.

Elfraine hesitated for a second and then took the seat beside him, tucking her legs up under her and looking past his arm as she resumed her reading.

Nuada stared down at her with mixed feelings. He knew what was to come, and it unsettled him to learn of her hopes for her daughter and her hopes for grandchildren - all hopes never to be realised. In her written words he detected the devious design behind Gretheved's championing of her in church on that long-ago seventeenth century Sunday morning. And in her feminine desire for a dress with which to impress someone she'd clearly liked, she reminded him very much of his sister - he supposed he should be thankful Abraham was nothing like Gretheved. The thought of his sister swiftly brought him back to the task at hand and he slipped his arm around Elfraine's waist, pulling her close so she could better see, before he too continued reading.

_**June 15**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>What a mad fortnight it has been! It seems almost everywhere I turn, there is Rochforte... not that I mind. It's quite the reverse. I look for him now when I'm out, and feel both anxious and expectant until he appears. On the few occasions he hasn't been about, my disappointment has been keen and I've had less enjoyment of the day than I might otherwise have had. I've met him several times whilst out walking, once at market and three times at church, the latest occasion being today. I know not where Anne got her information about his irregular observance of the Sabbath; it seems she might be wrong... for the first time that I can recall. _

_Rochforte has also been by the fields about three or four times. Yesterday he and the Lords Estbury and Sleford came upon us as we were taking a break from our labours. Tom Sedley had brought his fiddle with him and we were dancing a jig. We stopped when His Grace rode up but he bid us carry on and watched as we danced. He talked with me afterwards and asked why I did not attend any of the social gatherings in the neighbourhood. His question caught me unawares but I believe I answered him without any obvious embarrassment. I replied that running the estate kept me fully occupied, which is certainly true enough, and that I had no time for social occupations, which is perhaps less true._

_Given our discussion of earlier in the day, it was no coincidence then when an invitation arrived this afternoon. Lord Harleston is to hold a dance on Monday evening next to celebrate Midsummer's Eve and I have been asked to attend. I see Rochforte's hand in it; Harleston would never have issued the invitation otherwise. Unfortunately none of that matters; I had to decline regardless. I have neither clothes nor shoes nor jewels to wear, and I have no mount to carry me there and back else I would have accepted in a heartbeat. I penned my refusal and returned it with the messenger._

_**June 20**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>It seems I am to attend Harleston's dance after all. I was tallying the accounts in the library this morning, and Fortune was by me learning her letters when we were heard a commotion in the courtyard. On going out to investigate, we found a wagon come from Lord Harleston's estate and laden with gifts! There was a note from Rochforte. He desired that I accept his presents and reconsider my decision to attend Monday evening's Midsummer celebrations. He also gave me to understand that he would be making me an offer soon. It is not unexpected and I have already given the matter some thought. _

_For my part, it would be an offer without any disadvantage whatsoever. Rochforte is well-placed, attractive in both face and form, and has displayed a consistently good temper. I enjoy his company and I enjoy talking with him... and I think I would enjoy his bed. If ever I have been in love then this must surely be it. However I have so little experience of that finer feeling as to make me distrust my instincts. When I was fourteen I imagined myself in love with my cousin Hal but that infatuation was discarded easily enough on my marriage to Robert. I was prepared to love my first husband, as indeed I was my second, but neither of them ever wanted it or required it and so those two opportunities came to naught. And although I had more than my fair share of admirers at Court, there's only been a few gentlemen who've interested me over the years and either they or I have been married, or there's been some other impediment to a more long-lasting intimate acquaintance._

_On reflection I believe I will accede to Rochforte in all of the matters before me: the acceptance of his gifts and of Harleston's invitation, and of Rochforte's offer should he go ahead and make it. I'll answer yes then leave matters in the hands of fate and see where it takes me. I penned my acceptance of the invitation, along with my thanks for the gifts, and sent it back with the waggoner._

_And now to the gifts. Rochforte has sent me clothes and jewels to wear on Midsummer's Eve. He has chosen with a good eye: the colours suit me well and I couldn't have picked better myself. The gown has a beautiful wine-coloured velvet skirt and tight-fitted sleeves with shoulder wings and deep lace cuffs, while the petticoats and bodice are of the finest gold brocade and wrought with a delicate rose and lace pattern. The bodice has a low, rounded neckline trimmed with black needlelace, and a low, pointed waist as is the current fashion. I do not know how he managed it but it fits perfectly and I do not need to make any adjustments. He has supplied a matching wine-coloured tall hat with a black rooster feather and gold trim, and a long, black velvet casaque cloak to wear over it all outdoors. For jewellery, he has given me an enamel-on-gold salamander pendant with a pearl body and a ruby drop suspended from the top of the chain, and all threaded on a black ribbon to tie around my neck._

_He has also sent a black mare and all the tack I need to ride her, including both a side-saddle and, most thoughtfully and unusually, an astride saddle so I have my pick. She's a fine creature, and I look forward to making her acquaintance tomorrow and putting her through her paces._

_The final item was a present for Fortune. I was most touched that Rochforte remembered and provided for her; it is yet more evidence of his good nature. His gift to her was a French bibloquet, a wooden cup with a ball attached on a length of twine. The object is to catch the ball in the cup, and it is no easy feat to manage. Fortune and I passed an amusing though frustrating hour trying to master the contraption, alas to no avail. She did though inveigle an admission from me that she more very nearly succeeded than I, and so went back to her letters well-pleased with both herself and her efforts. She truly is my own wee darling and I get such great enjoyment out of just watching her go about her business, learning all she can of the world and fashioning it into a pleasing shape._

__**... ...**__

Nuada felt a fine tremor run through Elfraine and glanced around at her but her head was bent and a tumble of curls shielded her face from his sight. He hesitated slightly before removing his arm from her waist and lifting his hand to brush back her hair. She kept her gaze fixed determinedly on the pages in front of her, and he took her chin in his hand and turned her head so he could see her face. He immediately regretted it; she had tears in her eyes and such a look of anguish on her face that he wished he hadn't given in to his curiosity. She'd already done something which just yesterday he would have sworn was impossible; she'd gone from being a hated human to being an utterly delightful bed partner, and he told himself that enough was enough. Indeed they would have been far removed from one another by now if not for the appearance of Gretheved, and she would have become something he could accept: a rare pleasant memory, albeit one that also filled him with a great deal of ambivalence in the bright light of day. The whole point of reading her diaries was to discover everything he could about her third husband but so far all he'd done was see more clearly into her heart, and he now found he could not ignore her misery.

"I was nothing but a deluded fool," she whispered.

"You were not," he told her with a gentle firmness which belied his discomfort at being confronted with such stark torment. "Gretheved played a deep and cunning game, and _no one_ could have divined his true intentions. He obviously went to great lengths to keep them well hidden."

Nuada realised the man was playing a similar game now and could only wonder what his object had been in bringing Nuala and himself back to life, as well as _how_ he'd done so. That he owed his existence to such a creature filled him with a sense of disgust. The sooner he took control of matters, the better.

Elfraine made no reply to his words and nor did she look particularly convinced by them as she wiped her eyes and returned to reading. All he could do was slip his arm around her and draw her close again as he continued reading with her.

_**June 24**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>What an eventful time I've had this last day! I am so full of joy, and news, that my heart sings. But I will try to keep to the proper order of things and not jumble them up._

_I readied myself around six last evening and went to look in on Fortune before I left. She was much struck by the sight of me, having never seen me in anything but black or brown, or the light grey I wear to church. She told me I looked like a princess and wished she might have such a dress some day. I thought then that if my hopes for Rochforte did not eventuate, I would use the material of his gown to sew a dress for her as I would have no further use for it. Sarah Nash agreed to sit with Fortune, and when I left she was reading to her from a chapbook._

_I saddled Blythe, for that is what I've called the black mare, and we were off around seven. It was a beautiful warm evening with the light soft and faded, and I delighted to be out in it. As I rode over the commons I saw the men readying the fires for the night's celebrations. They had already laid down a good pile of bones for the bonnefyre and wood for the wakefyre, and were working on St. John's fire as I went by. The maypole was decorated and the other preparations for the Festival of Fire were also well underway. It was the first time since I returned to Miles Cross that I did not attend the Midsummer festivities of the village._

_When I arrived at Harleston's, the first person I saw was Rochforte; he said he'd been waiting for me. He lifted me down from Blythe, handed her over to the stable master, and then escorted me into the house. He took my cloak and hat, and complimented me on my appearance. I swear I blushed at the warm look in his eye. We proceeded then to the Great Hall and I saw there was already a good crowd gathered there. The Hall was opened up to the inner courtyard where the musicians had set up, and there were mummers and jugglers moving amongst the guests. Rochforte led me out to the courtyard and we joined some other dancers in a __Galliard. _

_Around nine o'clock we sat down to the feast and Lady Harleston received a great deal of well-deserved praise for the food. There were five courses in all with civet of hare, a quarter of stag, loins of veal, stuffed chickens, rabbit pies, pigeon pies, a roe deer, a pig, a wild boar, wafers and jellies, cheese, strawberries, plums stewed in rose-water, fruits, sweet pastries and wines being only some of the fare on offer._

_Whilst we were dining, a few of Harleston's servants lit the fires he'd ordered set up in one of his fields nearby, and after we'd finished eating we all moved out to the field. Rochforte drew me some distance away to a small stand of trees. He asked my leave and proceeded to kiss me very thoroughly. I was most disappointed when he stopped some minutes later._

__**... ...**__

"Oww!" exclaimed Elfraine as Nuada's fingers bit painfully into her hip.

"Forgive me," he said coolly, not sounding particularly sorry. "You were obviously quite _fond_ of him at one time," he said, his voice tinged with faint contempt... and something else.

"Don't!" Elfraine cried out as she covered her face with her hands. "It's a source of great shame to me that I once took pleasure in his touch!"

Nuada cursed silently; he'd spoken without thinking. "Look at me," he commanded softly but Elfraine refused to and remained as she was.

"Look at me," he repeated, this time with a hint of underlying steel in his tone.

She looked up reluctantly and he could see the bitter regret and self-reproach in her expression. "Please... forgive me," he said, meaning it this time. "No fault attaches to you."

He searched for some explanation of his attitude, as much for himself as for her. "My sister has often told me I have a possessive and demanding nature, and she is right. Having taken you to my bed, I find I now dislike the thought of anyone else touching you," he informed her with a casual and unconscious male arrogance, which distracted her from her remorse and immediately set a spark to her temper.

His words reminded him of something else he wanted to say to her, and there was no mistaking the note of warning in his voice as he continued speaking. "I'll also make it clear to you now – I won't tolerate you so much as looking at anyone else whilst I have you in my keeping. When we are done, you are of course free to do as you please."

The mutinous look that suddenly appeared on Elfraine's face surprised him. He'd as much as told her she was to be his mistress for as long as it took to settle their business with Gretheved, and based on her physical reaction to him he thought she'd be pleased with that. Instead she muttered something under her breath, and for once he couldn't quite make it out. "What did you say?" he asked shortly.

She narrowed her eyes and repeated her words, clearly this time and with great relish. "I think you'll find it was _I _who took _you_ to _my_ bed."

Nuada stiffened at that and Elfraine's expression as much as dared him to contradict her, which he was only too ready to do. "If you recall, it was _I_ who took, or rather carried, _you_ to the bedroom," he reminded her sharply.

"Yes, but it was _my_ bedroom and _my_ bed," she pointed out with smug triumph. "And what's more, I am _not_ in your keeping; I keep myself. And I won't put up with _you_ so much as looking at anyone else whilst I have you in _my_ bed; you'll find yourself rapidly dismissed if you do. Of course when I've had my fill of you, you may do as you wish!"

Nuada's temper burst into flames at her intemperate words and he was struck with a savage determination to wipe the haughty look off her face. In one quick, fluid movement, he put aside the estate ledger and hauled her onto his lap. Wrapping one arm around her waist and using his other hand to steady her head, he pulled her tightly against his chest. "I'll do as I wish right now!" he ground out with a primitive fierceness as he lowered his head to take her mouth, the urge to bend her to his will riding him hard.

Elfraine found herself held fast in his vice-like grip and she parted her lips to protest. However she suddenly forgot what she'd been about to say as he gave a guttural moan and his tongue swept into her mouth. Instead instinct took over, and she buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him back just as fiercely. Satisfied she wouldn't pull away he removed his hand from her head and reached between them to cup her breast. She arched into his palm and he swallowed her gasp of pleasure. It echoed in his chest and his belly, and answering waves of pleasure started to course through his own body as he remembered the enjoyment he'd had from her that morning and the night before.

He knew he should to stop before he was completely lost to his need for her, and it was with great effort that he tore his mouth away from hers. "It seems you are not the only one who is easily distracted," he rasped, as he fought to bring his desire and his breathing under control.

Elfraine made a small sound of disappointment as she too waged a similar battle, and she buried her face in his chest.

With one arm still wrapped tightly around her waist, Nuada took hold of her chin with his other hand and raised her head to look at him. "Don't test my patience again, woman," he warned, unhappy at how easy it had been for her to goad him into losing control.

His fingers tightened warningly on her chin as defiance flashed in her eyes, and Elfraine realised he was determined to have the last word. She also suddenly realised that jealousy of Gretheved might have prompted his arrogant pronouncements, and she gave him a considering look.

"Very well," she conceded. "I'll try not to test your patience... and as a sign of good faith, I won't warn you not to test mine," she added, doing just that in a not so subtle way; she really couldn't help herself.

The hard look he gave her and the way his hands tightened on her again told her he'd understood exactly what she was about but then she'd expected no less. It did occur to her though that there was at least one point on which she could reassure him.

"You needn't worry," she said softly, before he could take her to task.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a slight frown.

"You eclipse all three of my husbands... a thousand times over," she explained as she stretched up to drop a not so quick kiss on his dark lips before climbing off his lap and dragging the estate ledger back onto his knees.

Nuada felt a swift surge of satisfaction at her admission and decided to let the matter of her testing his patience rest. But as she fussed over the book and arranged it on his lap, he reconsidered his decision; her hands brushed against his thighs and groin in a most tormenting manner, and he looked down at her bent head suspiciously. He was not altogether certain her touch was as innocent or as accidental as it appeared, and he had to clench his fists to stop himself from seizing her hand and pressing it firmly against his hardness.

His suspicions would have been confirmed had he been able to see her face. Elfraine smiled to herself behind the fall of her hair as she saw and felt the effect her touches were having on him. Though it was as difficult for her as it was for him to have to leave things there, she'd at least managed to have the last word did he but know it and she resumed her reading after one last teasing brush of her hand.

_**June 24**__**th**__**, 1614**_.  
><em>My disappointment quickly fled though when he spoke. He made me an offer right enough, but it was <em>not_ the one I was expecting and I did not at first know how to answer him, so surprised was I._

__**... ...**__

"So, there it is!" broke in Nuada.

"Well, we didn't get very far this time, did we," murmured Elfraine.

He ignored her as he continued to voice his thoughts. "He offered to make you a mistress before he offered to make you a wife."

"No," replied Elfraine evenly. "He offered to make me a wife and no mention was ever made of being a mistress."

Nuada looked around at her in surprise. "You were not expecting an offer of marriage? Why not?" he asked bluntly. "There was surely nothing preventing it."

"Well, maybe not when I was younger," replied Elfraine. "But by the time I met Rochforte my worth had diminished so greatly that marriage never even entered my head."

"What do you mean? You were undoubtedly more than worthy of any nobleman. You certainly proved yourself by seeing to the welfare of your daughter and your people as you did," he observed, unable to understand the poor opinion she seemed to have of herself.

Elfraine gave a small laugh. "I thank you for your praise. But Gretheved was a peer of the realm and a Duke - there was no higher title but royalty. He was also well-favoured in both fortune and face, and could have had his pick of any number of more suitable women than I as wife. No, I thought he meant to make me his mistress... and it was on that basis that I accepted his gifts."

"But I cannot understand why you would not think yourself suitable as a wife," Nuada persisted.

Elfraine gave him a steady look as she explained. "You called me pragmatic last night, and when I met Gretheved four hundred years ago I was similarly realistic about my prospects then. Maybe in this day and age I'd be weighed and measured differently but back then my value was calculated solely on what I could bring to a marriage, and by 1614 that was precious little. I had a title but that would only go to a son should I have one or failing that, my daughter... and besides, Gretheved had a better title. I had lands certainly but they were not in very good order and I had not a penny to my name. I was thirty four years old and my fertility was... questionable at best. All I had to show for two husbands were two miscarriages and one child, and there was no guarantee that any future husband could get a child on me let alone a male child who could inherit my title for his line."

"I see," said Nuada slowly, understanding only some of it. "But the fault for that could not be laid at your door. From what you told me of your first two husbands they spent precious little time with you to get you with child," he remarked with some contempt.

"Yes, I know that now. But again, opinions were different in those days. Infertility was the will of God and the fault of women," she said somewhat bitterly.

There was no reply he could make to that; the ways of humans often made little sense. "And so you considered being his mistress," he asked instead.

"Yes. I would have accepted such an offer. I was happy with him and I never heard anything but good about him... and much as it pains me to say it, I... I loved him," she admitted quietly, though she was unable to look at Nuada as she spoke.

"Even if things had not turned out as they did, you would have still been far too good for him," he said gently.

Elfraine made no reply and continued to read.

_**June 24**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>It took me some moments to gather my wits and even then instead of an elegant answer, all I could do was gawk at him and ask stupidly if he was sure he'd meant what he just said. Rochforte was all forthright good nature and polite manners as he repeated his offer though I think he was rather amused at my gauche reply... for he did me the great honour of asking me to be his _wife! Not_ his mistress! And if I was prepared to answer 'yes' to the latter, what else could I say to the former but the same. He was well-pleased with my answer and kissed me again, much to my delight._

_He immediately wanted to discuss the arrangements for our wedding and I was in no mood to deny him. He did not want to wait for the reading of the banns as was required – that would mean we could not marry until after July 13__th__. Instead, he is sending to the Archbishop of Canterbury for a special license so that we can be wed just as soon as possible. He is hopeful it will be within the week. He is keen to settle my affairs here and then remove Fortune and I to Blackstone Castle, his ancestral seat._

_The rest of the evening passed in a blur; I could scarce think of anything other than Rochforte's offer. He saw me mounted on Blythe around two o'clock and I set off for home. One thing gave me pause on my journey though. I'd just passed the village fires on the commons and was going by Langham's field when I looked up at the moon. _It was the Dyan Moon on Saturday night just past and it was still round and large, sitting up so high in the heavens and staring down on us all. _ I reined in Blythe for a moment just to look at it and as I watched, it turned blood red. At that exact same moment a strange, soughing wind blew up, and Blythe became skittish. The whole thing, blood red moon and soughing wind, lasted less than a minute and then all was suddenly as it had been. I felt uneasy for a blood red moon is a sign of coming danger. However the warning must be for some other poor soul because tonight fortune shines on me and the future never looked brighter._

__**... ...**__

"Ah! And there it was!" cried Elfraine, her voice rife with self-recrimination. "That was the moment when I should have been put on my guard, coming so hard on the heels of Rochforte's offer as it did. It was a clear omen, and I knew it for one, yet I dismissed it because it didn't fit with my wishes."

"It was most certainly _not_ an omen," Nuada told her with assurance.

Elfraine looked up at him almost hopefully. "How can you be so sure?" she asked, wanting desperately to believe that she hadn't missed an opportunity to change what subsequently happened. "It was well-known that a blood red moon meant danger was on its way."

"That is what you humans might have told each other but it is not, and never has been an omen," he repeated firmly. At her dubious look he sighed and went on to explain. "It _is_ a sign of magic at work in the world but it has no meaning in and of itself, and it most certainly carries no message for any human who might see it."

"Are you sure?" asked Elfraine, still unable to believe she hadn't been at fault somehow.

"I think I know what I am talking about," he replied with a look of cool hauteur. "You forget who and what I am."

She had the grace to look embarrassed, and finally accepted his assurances. "Of course," she whispered. "And... and thank you for setting my mind at ease... on that point at least."

_**June 28**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>Rochforte's messenger arrived back from London today with the special license and we are to be wed in two day's time on Monday, the last day of June. But oh! Our wedding has been quite overshadowed by the dreadful events of the last few days and I will not be as happy on Monday as I might have been. Poor Anne Sparrowe is dead! She was killed most horribly by a wolf! Anne was my age and I played with her when I lived here as a child. She was a spinster and had no other family but she was an important part of our lives; she made sure we were well-informed of all that took place and though some were unkind enough to call her a gossip there was never any maliciousness about her, just a keen interest in the welfare of her neighbours._

_On Tuesday, the last day I wrote in here, I told the household my good news. Fortune was delighted that she was to have a father at long last. Poor wee thing – she never knew Geoffrey at all, he having died before she was even born. Anne was visiting as I delivered my news and she offered me her most sincere congratulations then left. I saw her again the next day, Wednesday, and she was quite concerned. She'd been talking to one of Rochforte's servants and had learnt something about him that disturbed her greatly. All she would tell me was that I should be on my guard. She couldn't, or wouldn't, repeat the particulars of what she'd heard. She left the house and that was the last time I ever saw her alive._

_Her neighbour called by on Thursday to enquire after her. She hadn't returned home the previous day and no one could find her or knew where she was. I and several others in my household joined the search for her. I saddled Blythe and set out for a place in the woods where I knew Anne went to gather wild strawberries at this time of year. I am pleased for Anne's sake I went thither but for my own, I wish I never had. I found her, or what was left of her, and it is a sight that will stay with me to my dying day. On the way back I gave Blythe her head and we soon arrived at the village. _

_Rochforte was there with Harleston and some of Harleston's other guests. They'd come to help with the search and I told them of my find. They set off and returned an hour or so later with Anne's remains and the news it was a wolf that killed her. There was much surprise at that; it is over a hundred years since any wolves have been seen in England but Rochforte had come across similar cases abroad and he was certain of his facts. He got up a hunting party and they went out yesterday to search for the creature. They returned about mid-afternoon with the carcass of a large, black beast. The dogs had brought it down and torn the head to pieces, but the rest was reasonably intact. The hunting party found no signs of any other creatures and Rochforte thinks it was the only one. He assures us we can be easy this will not happen again._

_It strikes me that though Anne had nothing good to say about Rochforte the last time I saw her, he certainly went to great lengths to track down the beast responsible for her death, and I think if she knew of his efforts she would realise his servant's story was nothing but a malicious lie._

__**... ...**__

Elfraine shook her head at what she'd just read. "That is not as easily explained away as the blood red moon," she murmured. What she didn't see then, she saw now and it was obvious Rochforte had orchestrated the whole thing. "I think the creature which killed Anne all those years ago was the same as those hounds that attacked the Bureau five days ago. I'd forgotten all about it until I read this but I recall the similarities now."

"It seems likely you're right," agreed Nuada. He noticed they'd nearly finished the estate ledger. There were only a couple of pages left in the book, and he started reading once again.

_**July 1, 1614.  
><strong>_It is done! I am wed to Rochforte and I've never been happier. Oh, and last night! I am pleased to finally have a husband with whom such delight is possible! I certainly never found it with either Robert or Geoffrey._  
><em>

Nuada started as the ledger suddenly snapped shut under his very nose and was snatched out of his hands. He looked around in surprise to see Elfraine clutching it to her chest with her arms crossed defensively over it.

"You are _not_ reading about my wedding night," she told him adamantly. She'd suddenly remembered just how... detailed she'd been in her description of that night, and to have him read it didn't bear thinking about.

"You do know I could have that off you in an instant," he pointed out in a measured tone.

Elfraine's only answer was to clutch the book more tightly to her chest and shoot him an accusing look, as if he'd already tried to do just that.

He quickly realised it would only be an undignified tussle if he took the ledger back off her and so he let her have her way. "Very well," he said tersely. "You may keep your secrets so long as you can assure me there's nothing of any use in there."

"I'll have to check," she told him as she scooted back against the far arm of the couch, and put her feet up. She opened the ledger again and started reading. Every now and then she peered at him over the top of it, to make sure he was staying put.

Nuada turned to face Elfraine and leaned his arm along the back of the couch as he watched her. He noticed the gradual rise of colour in her face, and his eyes narrowed as he wondered just what it was she'd written.

"Well?" he said shortly. "Have you found anything?"

"No!" she exclaimed as she snapped the ledger shut for the last time. "There's nothing of any use whatsoever in that part!" She then stood up, crossed over to the desk, and put the old book back in the bottom drawer.

"I suppose we should make a start on the family Bible now," she said as she walked back over to the couch.

"Yes," agreed Nuada, though he lacked something of his usual focus.

As she sat down beside him, Elfraine found she didn't like the way his eyes kept drifting back to the desk and she decided the last two pages of the estate ledger would have to be destroyed at the earliest possible opportunity. If reading about a kiss had upset him, she didn't like to think what he'd make of her wedding night. And more to the point, she'd be only too happy to get rid of that particular reminder of her stupidity and shame.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Dyan Moon: medieval English name for June's full moon.


	28. Chapter 27

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 27**

Elfraine touched Nuada's arm to get his attention. "We should make a start on the next one," she repeated. "There's a great deal about Gretheved in that."

Nuada swung his gaze back to Elfraine as he realised he was allowing himself to be far too easily distracted. "Of course," he agreed sharply, picking up the old book and placing it on his lap.

Whereas the estate ledger had been a plain, work-like book bound in brown leather, this text had a more ornate appearance. Its black leather-bound cover was decorated with silver corners, plaques and clasps which had become tarnished over time, obscuring the delicate etchings on them. Upon opening the cover Nuada saw an engraving of Queen Elizabeth on the title page with a brief handwritten note underneath. It was ornately signed '_Elizabeth R_' and recorded the fact that she'd given the book to her faithful servant Lord Wylde in 1577 for the use of him and his family.

On the reverse of the title page was a list of names and dates, each with a brief commentary attached. The entries had been made by several different hands over the thirty-four-year time period spanned, and they detailed the births, deaths and marriages of the Somerled family. Nuada was reminded very much of the Leabhar na Laethanta which every Elven family kept to record such comings and goings alongside the stories of their people and the events and festivals in their calendar.

Elfraine looked at the list and the memories came flooding back. "Mine was the first name to be written here," she said with a tight smile as she touched the entry: '_Lady_ _Elfraine Somerled was born this Sunday, the first day of June in the year of our Lord fifteen hundred and eighty._'

"My uncle once told me that future generations of Somerleds would always know _my_ name because it was the first," she mused. "Unfortunately it was also the last and there were no more Somerleds after me."

Nuada's eyes skipped down to the last entry. He frowned as he recognised her handwriting. She'd recorded that '_Elfraine Somerled, Countess of Wylde, died in June or July of the year sixteen hundred and fifteen_.'

"You wrote this?" he queried.

"Yes," Elfraine affirmed. "I'd decided by then to kill Gretheved and I knew, or rather I _thought_ I knew I'd be dead soon... either by order of the King's Law if I succeeded or by Gretheved's hand if I didn't. And as I was the only one of my family left to make any record of my death, I did so while I still could. It seemed... important at the time but I obviously needn't have concerned myself with it."

She was staring down at the list and didn't see the look Nuada gave her. It suddenly struck him just how alone in the world she'd been by then, and he felt a savage satisfaction that she hadn't let Gretheved have as easy a time of it as he'd no doubt counted on with such a woman.

"This was my father," she continued in a soft voice as her fingers moved down to the second entry. It recorded that Avery Somerled, Earl of Wylde, died February 2nd 1582 aged forty years. "That was when I became the Countess of Wylde, at the grand age of not quite two! My mother died not long afterwards," she said, her hand trailing on to the next entry which stated that Marion Somerled, Countess of Wylde, had died August 22nd 1582, aged thirty years.

Next came the marriages and deaths of several cousins and their families between 1585 and 1595, and then came Elfraine's marriage to Robert Chylton on November 6th 1595.

The next event was the disappearance of one Henry, Viscount Somerled, sometime in January 1597. "That was my cousin Hal," remarked Elfraine with a note of fondness in her voice. "He was ten years older than me, and my favourite cousin."

"What happened to him?" asked Nuada, recalling what he'd just read in the estate ledger of her infatuation with her cousin when she was fourteen.

"We never found out," she replied wistfully. "He went to Ireland early in the New Year, chasing after a woman –he was very much one for the ladies – and that was the last any of us ever heard of him. My uncle sent his people to make enquiries, and he even travelled to Ireland himself to search but nothing was ever discovered of what happened to dear Hal."

The next record was of the execution of Robert Chylton, aged twenty seven years, on October 24th 1597, and following that the death of her uncle, Rowland Somerled aged fifty four years, on March 17th 1598. Nuada noted it was her hand that had recorded her uncle's death as well as the rest of the events on the list. She'd noted her marriage to Geoffrey Golde, Viscount Ayleward, on September 18th 1599 and then there was an almost ten-year period where nothing of consequence had occurred.

That stretch was broken with the birth of her daughter. Nuada glanced briefly at Elfraine as he read her record of the happy event: '_Fortune Golde was born this Sunday, the twelfth day of April in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred and nine, and I have never been more blessed. I pray my daughter has a long and happy life, and that the name I have chosen proves true for her future.'_

"Such high hopes," whispered Elfraine as she gently touched the entry. "As no doubt every parent has for their children."

She quickly moved on to the next entry before Nuada could say anything. "Ah, and here we have the news of Geoffrey's death... received December 15th 1609 but actually occurring sometime in December of the year before," she said evenly. "It's a bit out of order but that can't be helped. I didn't know when Fortune was born that Geoffrey's bones already lay at the bottom of the Spanish Main."

A hard note entered her voice as she came to the next item. It was crossed with a single black line, as if by that act the fact of its ever having happened could somehow be denied. "We've already covered this one," she said shortly as she skipped over the record of her marriage to Guy Gretheved, 4th Duke of Rochforte, on June 30th 1614, before coming to the penultimate entry.

Nuada noticed it was penned with a less steady hand than the others and that she'd smudged some of the ink as she'd written it. Those two slips hinted at the emotions that must have overtaken her at the time. The entry stated that '_Fortune Golde died at midnight this Friday, the thirty first day of October in the year sixteen hundred and fourteen, aged five years, six months and nineteen days. _'

Elfraine spoke suddenly, her voice a touch loud and uneven. "My record starts on the blank pages at the end of the book," she said. "When I'd filled them up I wrote wherever I could find the space. I could have asked Gretheved for a proper diary but I was so accustomed to frugality it never occurred to me until much later, and by then I was glad to have this one thing he _didn't_ know about. Your sister's life may depend on the speed with which we're able to move against him so I suggest we make a start on reading what I've written here."

She was right of course, Nuada realised and he turned to the back of the book.

_**Miles Cross Hall, July 8**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>I've been a poor diarist this se'n night past but with good reason I think. Rochforte and I have been settling into married life and it all goes so well I can scarce believe I'm not dreaming. I've never been happier and Fortune is likewise well-pleased with our new circumstances. Rochforte, for his part, tells me he never made a better decision than when he asked me to be his wife. He is a very loving and attentive husband, and has been such a regular visitor to my bed that I begin to have hopes of falling pregnant. I am probably being foolish but still, it is possible. Janet Sedley tells me she has heard a woman will only get with child if she finds pleasure in the marriage bed and so I have reason aplenty to hope... though if that be the case I do not know how to then account for Fortune. My menses are due in about two weeks and so we shall see whether Janet is right or not._

_We remain at Miles Cross Hall, much to my delight. Rochforte decided to stay on and settle matters here first as it may be some time before we return. In the short space of a week he has done more for the tenants and estate than I ever managed in four years._

_**... ...**_

"You should not have underestimated your own efforts!" exclaimed Nuada, reading aright the underlying self-condemnation in the words she'd written all those years ago. "I doubt he ever toiled in the fields as you did or cared half so much for your people."

"That might be so," Elfraine admitted. "But he had the wherewithal to make a real and immediate difference, and my efforts were as nothing in comparison." She reached out and turned the page, and continued reading.

"You judge yourself too harshly," Nuada remarked before he too returned to reading.

_**July 8**__**th  
><strong>We go to London in about three weeks', after Lammas Day, as Rochforte has some business to conduct in the city. He is loath to expose Fortune and I to the plague, which is still rampant there, but his business is urgent and he will not leave us behind. His reasoning is that we are so dear to him he cannot bear to be parted from us and he is certain he can protect us against anything, even the will of God. I told him such a thought was blasphemous but he replied it was proof of the strength of his feelings for myself and our daughter, and he added that he could only protect us if he kept us with him at all times. I am not sure of the exact risks he thinks we might face if we remain at Miles Cross but it is not my place to question him, and I am in all honesty touched by his concern for our well-being and his determination to preserve us from any and all danger. To allay my fears regarding the plague, he has sent to London for an elixir to protect against the disease and also for more news on the situation. After he has completed his business in London we travel to Blackstone Castle, around Michaelmas he thinks. He wishes to be back at the castle before All Saints' Day._

_**Hampton Court Palace, August 9**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>Once again I've been remiss in my efforts with this diary. It is hard to believe a whole month has passed since my last entry. We arrived in London yesterday, Friday, having left Miles Cross Hall on Monday. On our way down we stayed with various friends of Rochforte's. Some of them I knew from my days at Court but others I had the pleasure of meeting for the first time. Fortune bore up to the travelling quite well though she was very tired when we arrived last night, as were we all._

_His Majesty has graciously provided us with quarters at Hampton Court, and for most of today I've been exploring the Palace with Fortune. She told me it was the biggest house she'd ever seen, bigger even than our own home. She said I was not to worry however because even though it was so big and had so many rooms and corridors, she'd be able to find the way back should we become lost. Though I know the place almost as well as I know Miles Cross Hall, I pretended to be unfamiliar with it and told her I was grateful indeed she had such a good memory. There are some other children about the Palace and so she will have playmates whilst we are here. Sadly, she will not have a brother or sister of her own in nine months' time. Janet's information was incorrect - my menses arrived a little under two weeks ago, as regular as always._

_Rochforte has said he will try to spend some time with us but expects his business will occupy him a great deal. He is patron of a Livery Company in the city - the Worshipful Company of Astrologers, Astronomers and Alchemists. They are less in the nature of a true Livery Company, consisting more of gentlemen dilettantes than proper tradesmen, and I gather they spend most of their time engaged in debating matters pertaining to philosophy and the natural sciences, as well as surveying the Heavens, compiling astrological charts and attempting to discover the secret of transmutation._

_In addition, Rochforte is keen to purchase some books from Dr. John Dee's library at his house in Mortlake. I met John Dee when I was at Court many years ago. He was an astrologer, astronomer and alchemist, amongst other things, and was a great favourite of Queen Elizabeth. Given his areas of expertise, I think he would have had quite a lot in common with my husband though I don't know that Rochforte ever met him. Dr. Dee died some five or six years ago and his daughter Katherine is now in possession of his library. Rochforte has been in correspondence with her and thinks he has almost persuaded her to part with the texts. He hopes a personal visit will tip the matter in his favour, and I feel sure it will for he is a most charming and persuasive man._

_**August 27**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>I have a quarter hour to spare hence my writing now. We are off to the theatre shortly and I am looking forward to the evening's entertainment. It is many years since I've been to a playhouse. Rochforte suggested the excursion this morning after he returned from Katherine Dee's. He is in an excellent mood as she has finally agreed to sell him the texts he wants and as well, she has offered to sell him the thing he was really after: a shew-stone her father kept for scrying. He tells me Dr Dee's 'mirror' - for that is what the shew-stone is called - comes from the Aztec peoples of the Americas and is a most ancient artefact. Now that he's obtained it he can reveal it was his object all along. I understand he was concerned Mistress Katherine would not part with it for any price but he was able to persuade her eventually._

_Rochforte has also set a date for our return to Blackstone Castle as he's completed his business with the Worshipful Company of Astrologers, &c., and that is another thing which pleases him. He'd thought we would not be able to depart until after Michaelmas but now we are to leave on September 1__st__ and will be there some four weeks earlier than he'd planned. _

**_August 29__th_**_**, 1614.**  
>I have angered my husband... for the first time since we took our vows, and it makes me uneasy. He asked me to come to his suite this morning to discuss his plans for the journey to Blackstone Castle and I arrived a few minutes early. I went directly to the back room where he keeps his business papers, and waited for him there. As I waited I noticed some old books on the desk and started to leaf through them. One of the books was the <em>Malleus Maleficarum_, or the _Hammer of the Witches_, and the others were assorted alchemical texts. I had not seen them before and took them to be the books Rochforte purchased from Katherine Dee. Sitting next to them was a highly-polished piece of obsidian in the shape of a hand-mirror, which I assume was Dr Dee's shew-stone from the Americas. _

_As I was about to pick it up and inspect it more closely, Rochforte came into the room and, oh, the look on his face when he saw me with my hand poised over the mirror; I still tremble to think of it. He was at my side in an instant and he pushed me away with such force that I stumbled and fell, landing heavily on my arm and hurting myself. He picked up the mirror and checked it over then called me a meddlesome little bitch and pulled me to my feet. He was not gentle and I had tears in my eyes as he thrust me from the room. He gave me to understand, in no uncertain terms, that if he ever caught me prying into his personal affairs or touching his personal possessions again he would beat me most soundly. Then he sent me from his suite without any mention of the journey to Blackstone Castle. I am still shaking from the encounter even all these hours later and my arm is very sore. The bruising is already starting to show on my elbow, which has become quite stiff, and I shall have to be careful how I use it until it heals. I have never been treated in such a fashion and don't know what to make of it. I swear I was not prying – I was merely passing the time until he appeared. I wish now I'd been a bit later... or perhaps waited in the antechamber for him. I will apologise to Rochforte tomorrow and try to explain what I was about_

**... ...**

"What happened was _not _your fault," Nuada bit out harshly. "He was the one who owed an apology... to you," he told her fiercely.

Elfraine looked up at him with some surprise. "Yes, I know that now but at the time..." She trailed off and shook her head. "Well, it was a different age and I was a different person. Now, of course, I wouldn't stand for it and I know exactly what I'd do. And it helps too that I can no longer be killed or hurt for very long."

An uncomfortable look settled on Nuada's face. "You must have thought I was cast from the same mould as him after I tried to kill you that first night," he remarked, sounding none too pleased at the idea.

"It did occur to me," Elfraine admitted. "But in some respects you were nothing like Gretheved. He was never so forthright in his feelings or intentions. You, at least, were honest from the start."

"That is _something_, I suppose," he muttered darkly.

"And as I've told you before, I admit to some of the blame for what happened when we first met," Elfraine said with a small smile. "You must know, if I hadn't been immortal - quite apart from the fact we'd have never met - I would not have spoken as I did. I would have curtsied politely and kept my mouth shut, and in all likelihood handed Manning my resignation directly afterwards. You'd never have had cause to want to kill me... or at least, no more cause than for any other human."

Nuada gave her a piercing look as he was brought up short by her words. "It's as well then you _are_ immortal and _didn't _keep your mouth shut otherwise I'd never have known you," he murmured.

Elfraine was disconcerted by the warm feeling his words gave her but before she make any response, Nuada continued speaking.

"And you must know you are safe from me now," he told her. "Quite apart from the promise I made to the dragons, I would no longer harm you or indeed seek to harm you... even if such a thing were possible."

"Why... thank you," she replied softly, a little surprised. "That's a very generous thing to say... but... I would never try to hold you to it," she said a little wistfully.

"You doubt me?" he asked sharply, his honour and pride pricked by her disbelief.

"I don't mean to offend you Nuada but they are easy enough words to say when nothing turns on them and I'm sure that like most men, you'd ultimately never let such a sentiment stand in your way," she said pensively.

"Then you do not know me at all," he said in a cool voice, feeling strangely disappointed.

"I know you better than you think," she returned. "From what your sister said in the storeroom two days ago, you didn't hesitate to use _her _against her will and harm her in the furtherance of your aims four years ago."

Nuada opened his mouth to argue the point but Elfraine forestalled him. "I know you were serving a greater cause and I know you weren't the only one prepared to sacrifice the ties of family and affection – God knows your father and Nuala both played their parts well enough there - but if that's the situation with respect to _them_ then I'd be foolish to set any store by your words to _me_ in the event we were ever at odds over anything that truly mattered. I offer no censure; it's merely the way of the world– for humans _and _elves apparently - and there's no point in trying to pretend otherwise."

Nuada scowled at her in frustration; he couldn't argue with her reasoning. He had indeed sacrificed much for the cause of his people and though it grieved him sore, he couldn't say he wouldn't do it all over again if faced with the same stark choices. And if he was prepared to ride roughshod over his sister – the other half of himself - and take his own father's life then what wouldn't he do to anyone else who stood in his way.

Elfraine reached up and gently touched his brow. "Don't frown so," she chided softly. "I'm honoured that you offered up the words... but in four hundred years I've seen too much to allow me to put any trust in them."

"And in four _thousand _years I've done enough to know you are right not to," Nuada admitted cynically, catching her hand and pulling her close.

"Let us just say then that we hope _not _to spend so much time in each other's company as to see the matter put to the test," Elfraine suggested with a wry smile as she steadied herself against his chest.

"A sensible if not very appealing compromise," he murmured before he bent down and kissed her gently. But as he was quickly discovering, there was no such thing as a simple kiss with her and for a moment he found himself wishing the rest of the world to blazes. When he finally lifted his head he gave her a searching look and said sombrely, "I'd offer you more if I could."

Elfraine slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. "And I'd be glad of it but what you've offered me already is as much as I can accept so it would be pointless to want or expect anything more," she said with a hint of regret.

Nuada held her tight for a moment and kissed the top of her head before turning his attention back to what she'd written. "Tell me about this mirror you mention here. Gretheved obviously placed great importance on it."

Elfraine knotted her brow as she thought of the day she'd stood in front of Gretheved's desk with her hand stretched out over the mirror. "It was about the size of a small plate, and very smooth and flat. The surface... shimmered somehow." She was silent for a moment as she struggled to put her next impression into words. "I would not say it was alive... yet it was not inanimate either."

"What do you mean?" Nuada asked, puzzled.

"It... it was..." She broke off as something caught at the edge of memory. "I'm sure I've seen the same effect somewhere only recently!" she exclaimed.

"Where?" he asked urgently.

Elfraine thought hard for a moment and then it came to her. "The Celtic heads! We saw a similar effect in the eyes of the one we found in the Bureau's armoury. What do you think it means?"

"I don't know," Nuada replied, with a frown. "I will have to speak with Gràinne again. She may have found out something further about the head we left with her the night before last."

"I hope we are getting somewhere with this," murmured Elfraine. "All we seem to do is run into dead ends."

"Yes," agreed Nuada. "But the dead ends are starting to look remarkably similar and that is something at least."

"I suppose so," said Elfraine. "Everything does indeed lead back to Gretheved: shadows, hounds, Celtic heads and all."

They fell silent for a moment as they each thought about the morning's events.

Something else occurred to Elfraine and she spoke first. "Just before he froze you and again before he silenced you, Gretheved touched a black ring on his finger. He did it too before he somehow dragged me out from behind you. Could that be the source of his power, do you think?"

"It's possible," said Nuada slowly. It was yet another question for Gràinne.

"I wonder what game he's playing," Elfraine mused. "If it's anything like the one he played with me four hundred years ago, it will be convoluted and difficult to unravel. Even now I don't fully know what his object was back then. Fortune and I were mere pawns to be used in the furtherance of his plans and as such we got no explanations," she added bitterly.

"If it's any comfort Gretheved said I'd been a great disappointment to him thanks in no small part to _you_," Nuada told her.

"Good!" exclaimed Elfraine, with satisfaction. "That is something at least. What else did he say to you this morning after he stayed your hand?" she asked abruptly.

Nuada hesitated only for a moment before answering her question. "He told me that Nuala and I are his creatures and cannot move against him. He was the one who brought us back to life."

"Gretheved did that!" exclaimed Elfraine in surprise. "Good God! _What _is he?"

"I have no idea but when I find out he will not be long for this earth," said Nuada, his voice deadly.

Elfraine gave him a narrow look. "Then you and I may see that matter we discussed earlier put to the test sooner rather than later for by my body, you will not touch him. I have the greater claim to his life and he is mine to kill," she said in a hard voice.

Nuada arched his brow at her. "You would raise arms against _me_ in order to secure the opportunity to kill _him_?" he asked softly.

Elfraine started at hearing it put like that and a look of annoyance spread over her face as she struggled with her answer. "I would like to say nothing would stand in my way but no, I couldn't raise so much as a finger against you and certainly not over that filthy creature – not for any reason," she admitted with reluctant candour. "I couldn't bear the thought I might get in a lucky blow and hurt you."

Nuada gave her an amused look. "While I appreciate your concern, there is no chance of that ever happening," he assured her confidently.

An unwilling smile tugged at Elfraine's lips. "No doubt you're right," she admitted, "though I _could _outlast you if I put my mind - and the dragon magic - to it." She sighed as she looked up at him. "You lay siege to my focus and sweep aside my resolve as though it were nothing, and you make me weak. I'm not altogether certain I approve."

"Then I am only repaying you in kind," Nuada murmured, lifting her chin gently with his thumb and forefinger. "I promise you, I will make Gretheved regret not only what he did to your daughter but also that he ever pushed you or hurt you." He traced her lips lightly with his thumb and then lent down to kiss her again before reluctantly returning his attention back to the book. He hadn't read more than a few words when a soft exclamation from Elfraine stopped him.

"Nuada?" she ventured as she flashed him a hesitant look.

"Yes," he replied, giving her his full attention.

"I should warn you, as far as concerns me there's... there's worse to come in here than a mere push or a sore arm," she said quietly. "It's nothing compared to what happened to my dear girl, but still... it... it's bad enough."

He froze and stared down at her for a long moment. His hold on her tightened fractionally and he inclined his head stiffly in acknowledgement of her words. "It will all be added to his list of crimes," he told her in a hard voice as he pulled her close against him and returned to his reading.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Leabhar na Laethanta: Book of Days

Se'n night: archaic term for a week or seven nights.

Lammas Day – 1st August; Michaelmas – 29th September; All Saints' Day – 1st November.

Janet Sedley's belief about conception was one which was common, especially amongst medical writers, up to at least the latter part of the seventeenth century. See Laurence, Anne, _Women in England 1500 – 1760, A Social History_ (London, Phoenix, 1996.)

Livery Company: London trade associations of medieval origin. Most are known as the "Worshipful Company of" their relevant trade, craft or profession.

Dr John Dee: (1527–1608 or 1609) a Welsh mathematician, astronomer, astrologer, occultist, and consultant to Queen Elizabeth I.

Katherine Dee: John Dee's daughter – she cared for him at his house in Mortlake in his old age.

&c: etcetera

Malleus Maleficarum - the Hammer of the Witches ("Der Hexenhammer" in German): a 1486 treatise on the prosecution of witches, by Heinrich Kramer, a German Catholic clergyman.

Dee's 'Mirror': a shew-stone used by Dee for divining the past, present and future.

'By my body': an old English oath meaning to defend by battle.


	29. Chapter 28

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**A/N: There's a bit of 17th century and other terminology in this chapter so if anything in here is unfamiliar, please check the references below for an explanation.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28<strong>

**_Hampton Court Palace, August 31__st_**_**, 1614.  
><strong>I have not much time to write as we are to attend Morning Service in the Chapel shortly and I would not like keep my husband waiting._

_I passed the hours until last evening miserable and anxious. Rochforte would not receive me yesterday morning, being still greatly vexed with me. But towards nightfall he relented and gave me leave to give an explanation and make my apology. It pleased him greatly when I promised, unbidden, not to anger him in such a manner again. In truth, he begged me earnestly to ensure I did not for he loves me more dearly than anything and it grieves him sore to have to treat me so. I persuaded him as to my sincerity and we spent a most pleasant evening together. Before I retired he noticed I was favouring my arm, which still pained me, and made me a gift of a salve. It has worked a miracle for this morning my arm is vastly improved, and though the bruising can yet be seen upon it I am no longer troubled by swelling or pain. I am most relieved to be on good terms with Rochforte once more._

_This is the last I will write for some days as we set out for Blackstone Castle tomorrow. Both Fortune and I look forward to seeing our new home._

**_Blackstone Castle, September 5__th__, 1614._ **  
><em>We arrived at Blackstone Castle late yesterday afternoon. The sun was low in the sky and the last of the day's light had already fled the valley over which the castle looks. Rochforte gave the name of the great ridge shadowing us as Cross Fell and said in olden days it had been called Fiend's Fell, which surprises me not. He was much amused at my presentiment of demons and witches cavorting in the thick grey mists clinging to the stony summit and of ghosts moving restlessly about the lower slopes delivering, as is their bounden duty, dire and calamitous prophecies to ill-starred travellers, and doomed to haunt the ages. He said I had forgot to make mention of the barghest which is said to roam the Fell, and then made a jest that such harbingers and hellions would not trouble us as they knew him for the master of the place and dared not set their faces against him. <em>

_It is a lonely and difficult landscape; there are no villages or settlements nearby and the climb up to the castle is steep and arduous. The wagon team struggled greatly over the last few miles though our horses managed the final ascent well enough. Rochforte took Fortune up with him and I was glad of it. I count myself a competent rider but the terrain tested me sorely, and her safety was more assured in his hands than mine. I fear we will not go far afield when we are in residence due to the aspect of the valley and lack of neighbours._

_At last we came to the edge of the trees, and Fortune and I beheld Blackstone Castle for the first time. I knew a strange moment of unease at the sight for it is a harsh and forbidding citadel with its great, soaring stone walls but then Rochforte bade us welcome to our new home and my foolish fancy vanished. Fortune, alas, was too tired to be impressed in any way and merely gave a great sigh, thinking no doubt of her bed which I soon got her to. As she put her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek before she closed her eyes, she did tell me though that she was happy with her new father and with our new home. Indeed, she needed no reminder to thank God for both in her prayers, and I did the same in mine._

_Today Rochforte showed us the castle and introduced us to his people. He tells me he has improved upon the place in recent years, and he has certainly made it most comfortable. Our living quarters are in a large building in the bailey rather than in the nearby Keep, and our private rooms occupy the upper storey. They line the inside perimeter of the walls and afford a view of the inner court below. The first staircase leads to the hallway outside Rochforte's lodgings, before continuing on to a small turret above. I have the Solar and an adjoining bed chamber on one side of his rooms, while the Great Wardrobe is on the other and then comes the nursery, where Fortune sleeps. I am most pleased with the Solar; it has a good fireplace and is well-situated for the light, which will help with the sewing. Rochforte has spared no expense with the furnishings: beautifully-made tapestries hang about the upper walls and intricately carved wainscoting decorates the lower. _

_When he showed me the Solar, I made the discovery that he has bought me a Flemish virginal, and I am greatly touched by this gesture. Knowing how well I love to play, he thought it a gift which would be well-received, as indeed it is. I am sure I will have many hours' enjoyment from the instrument. Quite apart from its beautiful tone it is a wonder to behold, being so richly decorated as it is. The soundboard is painted with flowers and birds, all enclosed by an elaborate blue arabesque, and there are intricate mouldings on the case edges. Tortoiseshell inlays adorn the marbled outer case, while the natural keys are covered in bone and the sharps in chestnut. There is a motto inscribed on the inside of the lid: SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MVNDI – thus passes the glory of the world. Set amongst such beauty as surrounds it, the motto is a fitting reminder, I think, of the transience of all worldly things – even including, alas, the fine virginal which it graces though I am sure the instrument will outlast me by a good many years._

_Continuing on with our tour of the upper storey, we proceeded along the Gallery which runs off the other side of my quarters and extends to the far side of the building. There follows the Cellar Chamber, the Passage, and the Garden Chamber all interspersed with various closets and Houses of Office. Running off the Garden Chamber is the Armoury, and then our private Dining Chamber. Next is the Buttery Chamber, and then comes the head of the second staircase. Beyond that is another small chamber which in turn abuts the nursery, and so completes the first storey._

_In the lower storey, several chambers along with the entry into the kitchen yard are directly below Rochforte's lodgings. There are more bed chambers below my rooms, and the room where the maids sleep leads off one of those. The chapel is situated beneath the Gallery and the entry to the orchard is on the far side of the chapel. Then comes some more chambers, the beer and wine cellars, and the pantry, which is under the upper floor Passage. The Low Parlour Chamber comes next and then another small private Dining Parlour. _

_Beyond this is the Great Hall and Rochforte tells me he still follows the old ways in that he continues to eat there on most occasions with his tenants and servants rather than remove to one of the private Dining Parlours. I am glad to hear it as Fortune and I are accustomed to eating with our people at Miles Cross, and enjoy sharing in the talk of the day's activities over our meals. Next to the Great Hall is the Buttery then the kitchen, and finally a small collection of rooms housing the Wet and Dry Larders, the Salt House, the Pastry and the Scullery._

_After our tour of the living quarters, Rochforte presented the staff to us. We met first with Sir Nicholas Strangewayes, who is the steward, and he introduced the various grooms and maids of the household. We met too with Allison Gross, who is to be Fortune's nurse. I tried to persuade Rochforte that she requires no nurse as I am only too willing to see to her needs but he insisted I hand her into the charge of Mistress Allison. It is the one thing in my present circumstances which grieves me. Fortune has been in my care since the day she was born. Like the late Queen's mother, I did not put her out to a wet nurse but nursed her myself for the first two years of her life, and I have had her close by me for all her five years. I pray it will not cause her as much distress as it does me to have to give her over to the keeping of another. _

_Once we had met all of Rochforte's people, we completed our tour of the castle. The motte on which the current castle sits covers an older building which serves as a prison when the need arises, and the entrance to this is directly beneath the Keep, from which we are debarred. The grounds and stream on the far side of the Keep are likewise forbidden to us. Rochforte says we are to go no further than the Gloriette in the garden at the base of the Keep otherwise we may go wheresoever we please. I would like to have asked the reason why but thought better of it; I had already irked my husband with my protest over Fortune's care, and I had no wish to rouse him to full anger again so soon after the incident in London last week._

**... ...**

Elfraine shook her head as she read her words. "Even knowing what he was about to do, he still separated us for the last two months of her life and denied us the comfort of each other's company, and I couldn't stop him... not that I raised much of an outcry." She fell silent for a moment before continuing. "I've had four hundred years to think on it and I still cannot fathom such a cold and unbending cruelty that would take away even that. What could it possibly have cost him to leave her in my care for that little time?" she said quietly.

Nuada knew immediately what Gretheved had been about: divide and rule. It was a strategy he himself had used against his foes when it had been the best way to secure his objectives. The man had no doubt been similarly concerned to maintain his power over both mother and child, and obviate the risk of his plans being discovered and his quarry fleeing.

As he drew breath to share his insight with Elfraine, Nuada suddenly reconsidered. She would only see it as yet more proof of her culpability in what followed, and he realised all it could do was add to her sorrow and guilt so he wrapped his arms around her instead and held her tightly for a moment before speaking different words altogether. "I can make no answer to that," he said gently. "Did you ever discover why you were barred from the Keep and the land beyond?"

"Yes, I did," replied Elfraine, and he could feel the tension in her body.

She was paused for a moment before continuing. "We will come to that soon enough," she said with a sigh as she relaxed against him and returned her attention to the book.

**_September 19__th_**_**, 1614.**  
><em>_It is two weeks since I last wrote anything and I have no excuse for being so behindhand in my efforts except that I have precious little to write of. Time has weighed most heavily on me this last fortnight as I've discovered I have not much to do here; Rochforte's staff see to all and my direction is not needed... as both Sir Nicholas and then Rochforte made only too clear to me last week when I attempted to take a hand first in the brewing of the mead, then in the cleaning of the rush mats in the Great Hall, and finally in the kitchens. It seems I am not even to _inquire_ after the work of the household as Sir Nicholas has everything well in hand. All that is left to occupy me is reading, writing, sewing and playing music. Rochforte even forbade me walk or ride out, citing the danger of the terrain and his fear for my safety as his reasons. It is not easy to be so idle when I have been used to hard work these five years past. _

_Furthermore, the maids and grooms all dislike me, or at the very least distrust me, and they make no effort to look at me with anything other than insolence. It is a position I have been in before; when I arrived back at Miles Cross Hall after receiving the news of Geoffrey's death, my tenants there treated me in a similar fashion at first though God knows they had more cause to do so than Rochforte's servants have now. I find I am not sure how to go on in this house. _

_Fortune fares no better I fear. There are no other children about the place and she has none but Allison for company, and me on the odd occasion I am allowed to visit with her. I do not know that Allison takes such good care of my daughter as she should; Fortune looks tired and pale, and has grown very thin. And too, she is an anxious child now where once nothing disturbed her overly much. I've looked for opportunities to discover more of what is happening but there is always someone at hand, which makes conversation with my girl difficult. She seems unwilling to say anything in the presence of the servants and when I order them away, they reply it is His Worship's will that they remain close by. _

_I raised the matter with Rochforte last se'n night but got no satisfaction from his reply. He said only that his orders are to be obeyed at all times and it would go badly for anyone who did not follow them. Indeed, he said this in such a manner that I was given to understand he would beat me if I raised the matter again. I fear he may be growing tired of me. He is in no ways willing to humour me now and does not spend so much time with me as he did before, and though he tells me it is because he is busy making arrangements for the celebration of Samhain - for he calls All Hallows' Eve and All Saints' Day by their old name – I fear his love for me might be fading. _

_I also find it troubling that since we have been here, he has made no provision for Sunday services despite having a fine chapel at his disposal. None of the other inhabitants of the castle seem perturbed by this and I am the only one who remarks the lack._

_That I am in a strange humour becomes clear to me as I read back on what I've just written. There is still much to be grateful for and yet I fix instead on my complaints. I have noticed too that I've been afflicted with an oppressive lassitude for some time now, and do not know how to account for it. At Rochforte's behest, I am still drinking the elixir he procured for our London visit and I wonder if that is affecting my disposition. I will ask him again tomorrow whether I should continue to take it as we are now far-removed from any outbreak of the plague and the disease can surely present no further danger. _

_And now that I've finished my piteous lament, I shall endeavour to count my blessings... whatever else may betide._

**_October 17__th_**_**, 1614.**  
><em>_It is the night of the Blood Moon and that is a fitting portent to mark what I write. I am reminded of the waning Dyan Moon I saw on Midsummer's Eve when Rochforte asked for my hand in marriage and I consented. As I recorded in the Estate Ledger, the moon that night turned blood red and though I knew it for an omen of coming danger, I dismissed it as having no meaning for me. I begin to discern my folly in so doing._

_I scarcely know how to go about writing this. I am still in some pain despite – and because of - Rochforte's ministrations, and the events of last week have put me in a lower mood than I have ever been in before except, perchance, when I awaited execution some seventeen years ago, after my first husband Robert's foolhardy schemes saw me wrongly accused and found guilty of treason._

_Until Wednesday last week things had continued much the same as previously. Michaelmas had come and gone without the occasion being marked – here, at least - and there had been a great deal of activity, all in preparation for Samhain; indeed the activity still continues. It was late afternoon on the Wednesday when I beheld Mistress Allison looking about the garden, and on enquiring of her if all was well she told me that Fortune was missing. They had been playing a game of hide and seek, and now Allison could not find her in any of her favourite hiding places. It cost me much but I restrained myself from slapping the foolish woman. Being no longer allowed to pass the daylight hours with my daughter, I had no knowledge they played this game and had I but known, I would not have countenanced them to continue with it because of the dangers of the terrain and the stream on the other side of the Keep. _

_Fearing Rochforte's anger at failing to look to the safety of her charge, Allison became most upset and begged me not to tell him. I was fain to give her my promise in return for hers that she would not say I had gone into the grounds beyond the castle Keep. Thinking the attractions of the stream had likely proved too strong for Fortune, I made up my mind to search there for her. None but Rochforte was allowed past the Keep that way unless they had his permission, and as my husband was gone from home for the day he could not give it on this occasion. I knew the servants would not countermand his orders for any reason, not even for my girl's life, and so there was no one but myself prepared to risk his anger and look there, which I did not hesitate to do._

_I went beyond the Keep and made directly for the stream. It is a clear and pleasant brook, and flows from under the cliff. How it comes from there, I do not know. I could see all the way to the bottom and was relieved not to find my darling lying below. After checking the stream, I made a good search of the meadow but Fortune was nowhere to be seen. I had returned to the water for one last look when I espied what appeared to be a narrow passageway leading into the mountain. It was with great difficulty that I made my way over the wet rocks to reach it, my skirts hampering my progress, but when I arrived I saw my eyes had not played me false. There was a very narrow entrance cutting into the jagged face of the cliff and though it was a tight fit even for me, it was big enough yet to admit a small child. I squeezed through and soon found there was no turning back; the confines of the space meant I could only go forward, and then only with great difficulty. A sharp turning not far from the entrance banished daylight and I was left entirely in a close and heavy darkness. I could only suppose the excitement of the game and the desire to find the perfect hiding place impelled my sweetheart onwards into the blackness; I could not imagine her continuing that way for any other reason. _

**... ...**

"So there is another way in!" exclaimed Nuada.

"What do you mean?" asked Elfraine.

"Abraham discovered that the stream flows into a cavernous area under the cliff," he started to reply.

"Ah! It's probably the room I found," broke in Elfraine. "I... I describe it next," she said hesitantly as a four hundred-year-old memory suddenly flashed through her mind.

Nuada glanced down at her and squeezed her hand before continuing. "Abraham could see a passage leading to the castle but could not leave the water to explore further. Gretheved has some magic about the place which stopped him," he explained. "It may be that such magic doesn't extend to this other way, particularly if Gretheved doesn't know about it."

"I suppose it's possible. Even so, _you'd _never fit through the passageway," she said as she eyed the size of him dubiously.

"I would prove you wrong in that," murmured Nuada.

Elfraine started and gave a rueful smile. "Of course you would. I forget once more just who and what you are. But I'd have to show you where the passageway is and you needn't think you're leaving me behind again," she added quickly.

"I'm certain I could find it for myself - thank you - but rest assured I have no intention of leaving you behind again," he informed her with the barest lift of his lips before he returned to reading.

**_October 17__th_ **  
><em>After a while the passageway broadened a little and I could breathe easy once more though the going was still hard. Coming to the end, I discovered a cavernous room which I took to be the remains of the old castle that now serves as a prison. It was lit by a faint, eerie, yellow glow, and I realised with no little fright that the glow was coming from a corpse candle hovering in the centre of the room. It is an omen of death and my relief at not finding Fortune drowned at the bottom of the stream was quickly overtaken by the fear that she had run afoul of a different danger. <em>

_I thought to survey the vault in the hope of finding her hiding in some nook or cranny but oh! the sight that met my eyes when I started to look. Piled up in the shadows around the old stone walls were many, many bones – some little more than shattered fragments - and I could see amongst them the small skulls of children... and of children only. The blood in my veins froze and my limbs were like to give way. I averted my eyes with great haste but where to look! For it seemed that no matter where they fell there was naught for my eyes to see but the empty black orbs and grinning jaws of Death lying amidst the remains of what had once lived, and all bathed in the sickly yellow glow of the corpse candle. The sight of those small bones, so many of them, was far worse than any hanging or beheading I ever witnessed. A great trembling set upon me at the dread thought of my little love already lying amongst that cold and silent company._

_But before I was completely unnerved, I spied Fortune's ribbon in front of a larger passage on the far side, and the hope sprung to life that she might have made her way safely from this terrible place. I struggled to master my fear and made my own way to the entrance, being careful of where I stood and trying not to look any more on the horrible contents of the __dungeon__. As I went I heard the murmur of running water and glancing to my right, I saw a pool along one side of the room. The water must feed into it from further up the mountain and then flow on into the stream without._

_I arrived at the passage and discovered it to be a short one. At the other end was a stone staircase leading up to a large oak door, which was lying ajar. From behind the door I could hear the faint sounds of a child sobbing and never have I felt a greater relief, for Fortune is the only child in the castle and so who else could it be but her who was weeping. I ran forward and beheld my girl in a pitiful heap on the floor, crying her eyes out. My heart hurt for her, and I picked her up and held her close. She clung to me and sobbed even harder, more from relief than from fright now, and we sat on a low bench to see out the storm of tears. _

_Eventually she cried herself out and became a little quieter, and I was able then to take stock of our surroundings. The room being unfamiliar to me, I believed us to be in the Keep and on looking out from a __balistraria __I found that to be the case. It was almost sunset and Rochforte was expected back at any moment. I became concerned to depart the Keep and return to our quarters in the bailey before he arrived and discovered his orders had been disregarded. However my luck had been exhausted on finding my daughter unharmed; we were now locked in and our only escape was the way we'd just come. But Fortune grew distressed at the very idea of returning to the awful room below, and so all we could do was wait where we were until someone released us._

_It was not long before I heard the sound of horse's hooves ringing out on the flagstones of the courtyard and I knew Rochforte had returned. There followed some talk, which I could not make out, and then a period of silence. It was soon enough though that we heard the key turn in the lock, and the door was suddenly thrown open with such violence as to startle us. Rochforte rushed into the room and I trembled at the sight of him; never have I seen a man so full of fury. Behind him came Allison and from the bloodied handkerchief she held to her lip I supposed she'd admitted, perforce, her part in the afternoon's events._

_Rochforte said not a word but fixed me with such a look as filled me full of fear. He plucked Fortune from my arms and handing her to Allison, bade the nurse return the child to her room and attend to her there. He then took Allison by the arm and pushed her towards the door. I made to follow them but Rochforte seized me by the hair and snatched me back, saying I was to remain. He crossed to the door and shut and locked it, and then turned to me once more. I could barely stand before such rage as I saw written on his face, and not a sound could I make for the terror that choked me._

_He grasped my arms and held me fast, and spoke in a voice that chilled me to my very marrow. "I have honoured you with marriage," he said. "I have taken in your brat, and fed and clothed you both, and I have set your pitiful estate to rights. All I asked of you in return was that you did not enter this Keep or go into the grounds beyond. Yet at the first opportunity you defy me and disregard my instructions, you and your whelp both. It is now time to pay the price for your disobedience Madam, and I will have from you my full measure of recompense."_

_And before I knew what he was about, he had raised his fist and struck me three times – very swiftly and with the full force of his fury. The first blow brought me to my knees, the second laid me flat, and the third knocked me into a black pit of oblivion._

**... ...**

In that instant Nuada resolved never to call Elfraine _madam_ again no matter how sorely she tried his patience. He looked down at her bent head and his lips curled in contempt as he thought of Gretheved's sickening attack on her; she was only half the man's size and wouldn't have stood a chance against him. She had not yet been immortal and it was only down to luck that her husband hadn't killed her.

Hard on the heels of that thought followed another which brought Nuada up short. _He'd_ arranged her death at the hands of the cabalus after they'd first met, and all because he hadn't liked the way she'd spoken to him. But she _was_ immortal by then and it was only thanks to that circumstance that _he_ hadn't killed her. If he felt uncomfortable about his actions before, he now felt outright shame at them despite that she'd accepted his begrudging apology and generously admitted to some part of the blame. He could dress it up as well-deserved retribution all he liked but Nuada suddenly realised he'd let his self-control - so ruthlessly forged over the centuries and so vital to his purpose - completely slip the reins that first night, and as a result he'd gone a step too far in dealing with what had been, in the greater scheme of things, a trifling insult. The realisation came as a salutary lesson to him, and his mouth set in a thin line of self-reproach as he returned to the words in front of him.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Cross Fell: the highest point in the Pennine Hills of northern England. It was called Fiend's Fell at one time and it was believed that demons haunted the rolling moorland on the mountain.

Barghest: (English folklore) a ghost or goblin, often appearing in the shape of a large dog and believed to portend imminent death or misfortune. In the north of England it is a legendary monstrous black dog with huge teeth and claws though it can also refer to a ghost or household elf.

Bailey: fortified enclosure within a castle's walls.

Keep: the main tower around which a castle is built. It was usually the tallest and strongest structure in the castle, and was used as the last line of defence during a siege or an attack.

Solar: A private room in the upper storey of a castle or medieval manor house, designed for the use of the ladies of the house so they could be away from the activity of the Great Hall (general eating and living quarters). Though good light would have been needed for the tasks carried out in the Solar (reading, writing, sewing, embroidery), the word likely comes from the French 'seul(e)' for 'alone' (sole) rather than being derivative of 'sun'.

Virginal: a smaller and simpler rectangular form of the harpsichord.

Arabesque: a decorative motif comprising scroll and foliage patterns.

House of Office: privy.

Closet: any small private room.

Allison Gross: see Child's Ballad #35. She was known as the ugliest witch in the north country.

Reference to late Queen's mother: Anne Boleyn, unusually for the times, breastfed her daughter, the future Queen Elizabeth I, herself.

Motte: earthen mound with a flat top on which a castle sits.

Blood Moon: the old English name for the October full moon. October 17th was the night of that month's full moon in 1614.  
>NB: Just a quick note about the dates generally: the Julian calendar was used in England and its colonies until 1752 when the Gregorian calendar was adopted. From 1582, when the Gregorian calendar was devised, until 1752 there were two different calendars in use in Europe and in European colonies. I've used Gregorian dates in this story. A fuller explanation can be found on a number of sites on the internet, including the Connecticut State Library website, Webexhibits and Wikipedia.<em><br>_

Corpse candles: (Welsh _canwll corfe_) small blobs of yellowish light which are thought to be omens of death.

Balistraria: an arrow slit, or thin vertical opening in a fortification through which an archer can fire arrows.


	30. Chapter 29

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 29**

_**Blackstone Castle, October 17**__**th**__**, 1614.  
><strong>I do not know how long I lay there on the cold stone floor of the Keep but it was dark when I regained my wits, and I was alone. A bitter, metallic taste filled my mouth, which felt full sore and swollen, and I could not breathe easy, my nose being caked thick with blood and other humoural fluids. I opened my lips and tried to draw breath but s'wounds! The pain that beset me! It must surely feel thus to be cleaved in half. Between the agony tearing at my chest and sides, and the need for breath, I became excessively agitated and tried to fill my lungs only very shallowly. However even that effort cost me much pain, and it was not sufficient to satisfy my body's demand for air. Unable to restrain the impulse any longer, I drew a deep breath and the __paroxysm of agony that followed rendered me insensate once more._

**... ...**

"As it happens, I have since been cleaved in half... more than once in fact," murmured Elfraine dryly, "and the pain of a few cracked ribs does indeed turn out to be remarkably similar."

"I will have to accept your word as to that," replied Nuada in a grim voice as he looked down at her. He was still none too pleased with himself and her words only reinforced the feeling, reminding him sharply as they did of what the cabalus had done to her. He made a concentrated effort to tamp down his displeasure at himself, and continued on in a more even tone. "I can agree though that cracked or broken ribs are... unpleasant."

"An understatement if ever I heard one," said Elfraine, with a short laugh. "They hurt like the very Devil!"

"I'm sorry you had to ever find that out," he remarked, with a small frown.

His sincerely-spoken words gave Elfraine pause. "I wish I'd had someone like you around back then," she sighed as she gave him a wistful look. "I could have done with a champion... though if it had been you I think you would have put an end to my life just as soon as you'd dispatched Gretheved."

Nuada hesitated slightly before he answered the charge. "I like to think I've never killed a human for anything other than a good reason... otherwise I'd be no better than them," he said in a measured tone. "And so long as you gave me no good reason, you would probably have been safe enough."

"That's a very... careful if less than categorical answer," Elfraine noted. "Much turns on your definition of a 'good reason'." She arched her brow at him and waited expectantly.

Nuada stiffened. "I will admit that definition has been less... rigorous on occasion, and has been known to change to suit the need," he replied in a cool voice as he inclined his head with something less than his usual grace and fluidity of movement.

Elfraine suddenly saw straight to the heart of his discomfort and was swamped with remorse. "Please forgive me, Nuada. God knows I've done enough to be ashamed of myself over the last four centuries, and with less cause than you I've no doubt. I don't mean to vex you over your own choices and actions."

"There is nothing to forgive, Lady," he replied, with a thoughtful frown. "You speak only the truth. But make no mistake; the truth does not – _cannot_ - vex me enough to turn me from my purpose."

"Nevertheless, it is not well done of me to tease you so in return for such gallant sentiments as you've honoured me with," she admitted, still shame-faced.

"You remarked before on my honesty. I could say the same of yours," Nuada assured her. "I prefer your unvarnished opinion to any amount of ingratiating dissimulation... most of the time," he added with a brief lift of his lips. The sudden gleam in Elfraine's eyes told him he was about to be treated to some more of her honesty but she surprised him by holding her tongue instead, though with obvious difficulty. "Come now, Lady Wylde," he said dryly. "Don't be shy."

Elfraine gave him a mischievous look and quickly spoke her mind before he could change his. "Very well. I was going to say it's a good thing you feel that way because there's not much you could do about it if you didn't," she informed him with relish.

Nuada's attention was suddenly caught by the curve of her lips as she smiled up at him. "I don't know about that, Lady," he murmured as he looked at her intently.

Elfraine grew warm under his regard.

He bent his head to hers. "I daresay I could turn your hard truths into soft sighs easily enough," he whispered, his mouth only a hairsbreadth away from hers, and she proved him right as she melted into him and parted her lips on a breathy "oh". He smiled briefly against her mouth and then kissed her properly.

When he lifted his head a few minutes later, Elfraine found she couldn't take exception to the look of masculine triumph on his face as he drank in the sight of her passion-glazed eyes and flushed skin, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She noted to her own satisfaction that he too was breathing hard, and that his eyes glittered with a hot, burning desire.

"After I kill Gretheved and get my sister back, I am going to take you to my bed and keep you there for a hundred years," he told her, his voice roughening as his body clenched in sharp arousal. He now knew what it was like to have her beneath him, and he ached to hold her and know her again.

An answering wave of desire knifed through Elfraine and she was sorely tempted to say yes but though all eternity was at her disposal if she chose, a hundred years was something she just couldn't give him... not when her daughter had the greater and more pressing claim.

"One... one week," she said unsteadily. "I'll give you one week."

Nuada's hands tightened on her. She was right, of course; a hundred years was impossible... for either of them. But one week! That was _nowhere_ near enough. "A twelvemonth," he countered, though that too fell far short of what he wanted.

But even that was too much for her. "One cycle of the moon," she proposed instead, regret written clearly on her face as she held his fierce gaze.

He drew a sharp breath and then exhaled slowly. Once again, she was right. "Very well," he agreed. "One cycle of the moon it is." Then he leaned down and sealed their agreement with another kiss before reluctantly turning back to the book on his lap.

But before Nuada had even read a word, he was distracted by Elfraine tapping her fingers absentmindedly on the top of his forearm. On glancing down at her, he saw she had a strange, distracted look on her face and he got the impression she had something more to say. Her expression gave him pause though; he was obviously coming to know her rather well, he thought to himself, because some instinct told him to tread carefully. "What is on your mind, Lady?" he asked warily.

"I'm thinking about that bed of yours," she murmured.

He felt a surge of satisfaction at her answer and relaxed. In truth, he was having difficulty thinking about anything else himself.

"Um, exactly where _is_ it?" Elfraine asked innocently.

Nuada was immediately put on his guard again. Now that he considered the matter, he realised he didn't actually have a bed of his own. What he'd thought of as his prison cell at the BPRD was out of the question, and his old quarters in the Troll Market had long since been taken over by others of his kind in need of a place to live. He realised he had only one option and his eyes narrowed sharply as he suddenly saw what she was about; he had a strong suspicion she had not let go of the earlier matter of who did what to whom. "We will have to use your bed," he admitted stiffly as he anticipated her next words.

"Ah!" exclaimed Elfraine as she pounced. "So more correctly speaking, _I _will be taking _you_ to _my_ bed and keeping _you_ there for a month."

Nuada scowled fiercely. The woman was impossible! Albeit she was human, for someone who'd been born and raised in the true age of kings and queens she sometimes showed a lot less than the deference he would have expected... or liked. In fact her attitude was decidedly democratic on occasion. But not all the time, he realised suddenly, and he made an effort to smooth out his expression as he fell back on his last line of defence.

"I think you'll find that is not the case at all, Lady Wylde," he informed her, the very embodiment of courtly politeness.

Elfraine's eyes narrowed as she wondered what he was up to; though he disagreed with her assertion, he seemed to be taking it better than she'd expected, and that put her on _her_ guard. Well, he wasn't the only one who could do the pretty, Elfraine thought to herself, and she put on her most winning smile as she spoke to him. "I trow the fault be mine, Your Highness, but marry, I know not how the case be otherwise. Prithee, Sir, do honour mine humble and undeserving self with thy most noble and felicitous reasoning," she asked charmingly, her courtly politeness eclipsing his entirely.

But Nuada detected the slightest edge in her voice and had to bite back a smirk; he wasn't quite ready to spring his trap yet. "Certes, Lady Wylde," he graciously assented. "By the by, you show some very pretty manners milady."

Elfraine started to smile in genuine delight, ready to accept the compliment, but rapidly closed her mouth on her polite demurral and frowned instead as he continued speaking, no longer quite so gracious as before.

"Would that they were always so fair," he continued, sardonically. There was a slight pause and then he announced, with more than a touch of not-so-royal smugness, "By order of the royal prerogative, I take your bedchamber as my own for the duration of our agreement. You are more than welcome to visit, of course... at my pleasure. Therefore _more correctly speaking_, it is _my_ bed that _you_ will be kept in for a month." He noted with satisfaction that she suddenly looked as though she'd swallowed a toad.

Courtly politeness fled entirely and Elfraine sprang to her feet. "That... that..." she spluttered. "That is unfair! You... You... _miserable_ elf!" _She_ was scowling fiercely now but the only effect that had on Nuada was to make him laugh; he'd won the point and his own irritation was quite gone.

However Elfraine was not so easily outmanoeuvred. She cast her mind around for some way out of the predicament and grasped at a straw. "You are not _my_ prince or king!" she informed him acerbically, as she put her hands on her hips and started tapping her toe.

"No," he agreed as he leaned back against the couch, enjoying the sight and much amused. "However you may think of me as visiting foreign royalty and being the good hostess that you are, I'm sure you know what courtesy I am owed."

"Courtesy, my arse!" Elfraine muttered, at which he gave her a look of enquiring superbity. She was unsure whether he was being sarcastic or not with his comment about her being a good hostess but she knew he was right about what he was owed; the best, or as in her case only, quarters were always offered first to royalty, foreign or otherwise.

Elfraine stared impotently at him. "I cannot believe you play that card," she grumbled. He looked well-pleased with himself, and the lazy, knowing smile on his face made her catch her breath. Her own irritation started to dissipate and, almost against her will, her sense of humour got the better of her. "I suppose it serves me right for trying to steal a march on you," she remarked as a reluctant smile tugged at her own lips.

"It most certainly does," he agreed, though his smile took the sting out of the words.

At the warm look in his eyes, Elfraine gave up the fight entirely. "Your clever riposte has felled me and I concede defeat," she admitted, with both good grace and good humour as she dropped a brief curtsey.

Nuada put aside the book on his knees and reached out for her hand. He pulled her down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "And what is my prize?" he asked, his voice deepening as he drew her close.

"My bedroom... obviously," replied Elfraine a little breathlessly, "and this small thing, an' it please you." She gently took hold of his face in her hands, threading her fingers in the hair on either side of his head, and pulled him down to tease his mouth with her own. As her tongue caressed the seam of his lips he groaned in approval and opened his mouth to her, at which she readily deepened their kiss.

"That pleases me very much," he murmured when they finally drew apart.

"As it does me," she agreed softly.

Their gazes caught and held for a moment, and then Nuada reached up and touched her hair. "Why do you fight me over such a little thing as how I frame a thought?" he mused. "Moreover a thought that I would hope holds the promise of as much enjoyment for you as it does for me."

There was a pause and Elfraine stared into his eyes for a moment as she thought about his question. "Oh," she gasped in soft dismay as a sudden realisation struck her. "You put me to shame yet again," she whispered.

"I don't mean to distress you, Lady," Nuada started to say but Elfraine touched a finger to his lips and stopped his words.

"No, no, you're quite right to call me out on it," she said quietly. "I can only say in my defence that I never again want to resemble the woman who wrote those words," she explained as she nodded at the book beside them. "Helpless and unable to defend my own cause, subject to the whim and will of others, and accepting all without question. I know it makes no difference now – I've already lost everything I ever held dear - but it's a point of honour with me that I never be _her_ again... and you quite rightly make me see that sometimes, as now, my determination only renders me petty."

Nuada shook his head as he looked at her. Once again, she judged herself too harshly but it did explain why she bridled at even the appearance of bending to his will. "No mhuirnín, never petty," was all he said though, as he carried her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"_Very_ petty, I'm afraid," Elfraine disagreed as she gave a wry smile and squeezed his hand. "And even more so in the face of such an attractive and welcome offer as you make to me."

She went to slip off his lap and take her seat beside him again but Nuada held her fast. "Stay there, Lady," he murmured in her ear as he picked up her family Bible and arranged it on her knees so he could read over her shoulder.

Elfraine leaned back into him and rested her head in the crook of his neck. "Gladly," she whispered. They were almost at the entry she'd been dreading since they started reading and she suddenly took comfort in the warm, solid feel of him against her. As Nuada's arms tightened around her, she could only hope that comfort would be something which would see her through the forthcoming ordeal.

_**October 17**__**th  
><strong>When next I awoke, I found myself in my bedchamber. It was still dark without and a candle burned on the table. I saw Mistress Allison asleep in a chair by the fire, which had long since died down if the chill in the room gave any indication. Some sound must have escaped me for she awoke suddenly and looked over my way. I tried to speak but could not for the pain in my chest and sides. She bid me be still and told me my ribs were broke but I must needs know my daughter suffered no harm at Rochforte's hands, and I contrived at last to say Fortune's name. Allison took my meaning perfectly and vouchsafed that my girl was well enough and sleeping peacefully in her bed. After that I could do no more but wait for morning._

_Rochforte came by early the next day. He gave me not even so much as a look but spoke quietly to Allison in the corner. I could not hear what was said and nor would Allison tell me afterwards. One of the maids brought up some food and water at the breakfast hour but my face and ribs were so sore that I could neither eat nor drink. Allison removed the tray, saying she would not be back as she had to tend to Fortune, and I saw no other person for the rest of that day._

_The following day and the one after passed in similar fashion except that I did not see Rochforte. I occasionally caught the sound of Fortune's voice in the garden below and that was my only comfort, it being proof that all was well with her at least._

_On the third day, Allison brought me a bowl of water and a cloth so I could clean myself. She handed me my mirror from the table and then departed. I think Rochforte must have continued to give vent to his fury after I passed into unconsciousness the other night as I cannot believe that only three blows, which is all I remember, did so much damage as was revealed to me when I looked into the glass. As well as having cracked ribs - and I do not recall him hitting me about my chest or sides - my whole face was black and blue and swollen. The whites of my eyes were filled with red blood, and all about my nose and mouth was old, dried, brown blood. One side of my face was numb, my teeth hurt, and I could smell nothing, my nose being so blocked with blood as it was. It took me some time, I having to be careful in my movements, but eventually I cleaned it all up as best I could. It was not so much of an improvement as I'd hoped, and even now it is as well I have not yet seen Fortune as I think she would still take fright at the sight of me. My face is no longer black and blue but rather yellow and green, which I think gives it a more ghastly appearance._

_The next day, Sunday, Rochforte visited me once more. He ordered Allison from the room, for it was early and she was with me still. His words and gestures put me in mind of his actions of Wednesday evening just past and I was filled with a great fear, which I was unable to conceal from him. He laughed as I cowered before him and said he hoped I had learnt my lesson this time. I was given to understand he would not be so merciful a third time._

_He then bid me give an account of the events of Wednesday last and I readily told him what had taken place. I hesitated when I came to the part about the chamber beneath the Keep but continued at his direction. When I finished, he told me the vault had been built on the burial ground of the ancient peoples that used to live here about, the __Children of the Oak, __and that over time the bones had been washed up when the stream running beneath the mountain was in flood. I wondered why it was only the children's bones that had been thus revealed but held my tongue for fear of angering him with the question. He examined me closely on whether I had seen anything else in the dungeon, and I told him of the corpse candle but he was not concerned with that. He finally seemed satisfied with my answers and let the matter drop._

_Before he left, Rochforte told me I was to stay in my chambers until I was fully healed, which is some weeks distant yet, and that Allison would attend me when she was not seeing to Fortune. He forbade me all activity except reading, and said I was not to attend the Samhain festivities at the end of the month. Furthermore I may only see my daughter for a quarter hour once a day just as soon as my bruising fades, which I am hoping will be within the next se'n night. That last goes hard with me but I dare not protest or question the order for fear I will be denied her company altogether. _

_And so has the time has passed until now, and I do not expect there to be much variation in the pattern of the days for the next few weeks at least. At Rochforte's command, I continue to take the elixir for he assures me it will help speed my recovery and hasten the arrival of the day when I can see my daughter once more. He reminded me of how efficacious his salve was and says the elixir will prove to be even more so. The lassitude which oppresses me has grown worse though I think that is due to my injuries, and I hope to finally overcome this strange drowsiness once I am fully healed of them._

_**October 31**__**st**__**, 1614.  
><strong>I do not know the hour but it has been dark for some time. I am about to disobey Rochforte's express orders and so this may be the last thing I ever write. But I want there to be some record at least of the truth of my situation and my scant effort here will have to suffice. My ribs still pain me, though not so much as before, and I have overcome the worst of the weariness that was afflicting me, chiefly because I stopped taking Rochforte's elixir three days ago. It was then that the guests began arriving for tonight's festivities and it was then that I overheard the terrible fate which that devil Rochforte has planned for my girl. This is as much as I can write. My gaoler, Allison – for it is clear now her assigned role was indeed that of gaoler – has finally left me and I am at last at liberty to try and forestall Rochforte's plans by getting Fortune and myself away from Blackstone Castle this very hour. But first I must find my child and I go to do that now. I pray God will guide me in my desperate efforts to preserve the life of an angel, and that He will protect us from the evil which threatens on all sides. _

**... ...**

The desperate exigency of the situation was clear in her words and Nuada looked down at Elfraine to see how they were affecting her now. She hadn't saved her daughter, and he knew that what came next was going to be hard on her. She was already tense and almost preternaturally still, and he tightened his hold on her as they continued reading.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

S'wounds: (Elizabethan minced oath) God's wounds.

Trow: (archaic) believe.

Prithee: (archaic) pray thee, used to express a polite request.

Certes: (archaic) certainly.

Royal prerogative: a body of customary authority, privilege, and immunity, recognized as belonging to the sovereign alone.

'an' it please you': (archaic) if it pleases you.

Mhuirnín: (Gaelic) sweetheart, darling.

Gaoler: (UK) obsolete spelling of jailer.


	31. Chapter 30

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 30**

_**Blackstone Castle, January 14**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>I stare at the page before me and scarce know where to start. Christmas has come and gone, and the old year has been replaced with a new one, and all the while I have been out of my mind with grief... as I am still. But for her sake I must overcome this madness and find the words, and the strength, to record what happened on that cursed night though I know whatever I write can never convey the true horror of those hours. There is to be no justice for Fortune, and no peace either, and this must serve as the only testament of what she endured. _

_It is late and the Devil has gone, leaving me to my rest, he says, though I will rest no more in this life. He laughed as he spoke, and it is clear he feels no shame and no guilt for the monstrous deed he has done. I must make this record; someone may one day read it and know the truth of what happened, and that is all I have left to hope for. I have just now done what I never thought to do; I have noted my darling's name in this book once more but not to record the happy event of her wedding, which would surely have come next had the Devil never crossed our paths and laid his snares for us. No, I have written instead of Fortune's death for that evil, wicked creature has stolen her life from her and with it he has taken mine. Surely I will not be suffered to remain on this earth for long, empty flesh and walking corse that I am._

_The landscape without lies covered in a thick blanket of snow, and the bare limbs of the trees have grown long fingers of ice. Bright moonlight glistens on the clear white crystals, bedecking the forest with shimmering diamonds, and there is a sharp, bracing chill in the air. Once I would have found it a wondrous sight but I am as frozen as the ground beneath the frost and can no longer feel the beauty of the world in my heart. Allison, for she is my gaoler still, told me the ancients who lived and worshiped here in olden days called this moon the Quiet Moon. It is a fitting name, the scene without being as silent as the grave... though not all graves are so still; I know my daughter lies not quietly in _hers_. I sometimes catch the sound of her voice carrying on the wind, crying out to me and asking why this has happened, or else she wakes me in the night pleading for my help but I no more have the power to assist her now than I did on All Hallows' Eve._

_Three days before that dreadful night the guests started to arrive and among them were Harleston and his lady. They were standing beneath my window talking and some of their words caught my attention. I did not – could not – at first comprehend what was said, it being so awful and fantastic, but I soon came to understand that they spoke in all seriousness and my heart near stopped at their words. They, along with that devil Rochforte and the other guests, still followed the old ways and worshipped the gods of the people who lived here long ago. At midnight three days hence a sacrifice was to be made to those gods and it was to be my daughter! Upon understanding Harleston's meaning and being convinced of his earnestness, I was overtaken by a dreadful confusion and fierce terror. _

_Some time passed before I was able to think again, and then in a moment of terrible clarity I finally apprehended the true and awful aspect of all that had happened. I saw immediately that I must do something though I scarce knew what. The servants were Rochforte's to a man, and none would go against him, and too there would be no help from the guests, they all being here for the very purpose of the sacrifice. The only course left to me was to flee but I was so overcome by the strange drowsiness that I could barely move to the door of the room let alone escape this isolated place with my daughter. I remembered my earlier thought that Rochforte's elixir was responsible for my lassitude and I knew it now for the truth. I would have to stop taking his poison and pray I recovered in time to escape before he could execute his monstrous plan. _

_For the next three days whenever Allison administered the foul brew I made as if to drink it but instead discretely emptied it when she was not looking. Several times I feared she would find me out, and I had to take care that I appeared as weary as ever so she would not suspect anything was amiss. My luck held and my deceit was not discovered, and within two days I was no longer feeling so tired. By the third day there was a marked improvement and I had overcome the worst of the weariness afflicting me. My ribs still pained me but I had to act, that evening being the one marked for the completion of the Devil's abominable and unholy deed._

_There, however, I was severely frustrated in my purpose. On All Hallows' Eve Allison did not leave me as usual but rather sat with me for the entire day. I became anxious that my plan had been discovered but I think now the Devil was taking no chances seeing as he was so near to achieving his design. I was most unlucky that Allison had been set to keep a close watch on me that day. Eventually she left but it was well after dark and that made my escape more difficult. I had intended finding Fortune and hiding her in the forest while I went back to the castle and saddled up Blythe. I would then ride out and get my daughter, and we would make our escape during daylight hours. In the three days leading up to Samhain I had been observing the comings and goings of the servants and grooms, and noticed that the courtyard and stables were unattended for large parts of the day, everyone being so busy preparing for the Devil's work as they were. I'd noticed too that Allison had been involved in the preparations and had not been attending to Fortune so much as before so I should have been able to carry out my plan easily enough if not for the guard my husband set upon me that last day in the very form of Allison herself. It became clear we would not be able to slip away unnoticed; instead, we would have to make a desperate flight at the first opportunity._

_After my gaoler and guard had gone, I went to find Fortune. She was sound asleep in her bed and I woke her only with great difficulty. She was confused at first but soon recognised me and threw her arms around me in delight. Though I was still in some pain I gathered her to me and held my precious little girl tight, trying to keep my fear and distress from her. I told her we were to play hide and seek, and we must be very quiet and move very quickly if we were to win the game. I lit a candle so she could see to put her clothes on and I could tell by the way her eyes sparkled with excitement she thought it a great lark to be playing at such an hour. As she dressed she told me she would be as quiet as a little mouse and as quick as one too. And she was so very quiet and so very quick, and so very, very good as we made our way to the stables, and had the game been a fair one she would surely have won. But I know now there is nothing fair in this world and the stables were as far as we got in our attempt to escape for all that we were a pair of quick and quiet little mice. When we came to the mews I discovered that the Devil and several of his guests had arrived there before us. In lighting the candle for Fortune to dress by, I had spiked my own gun and so... so stupidly sealed her fate; the flame had been seen and '_the game was up'_. _

**... ...**

Though he'd been hardened by millennia of war and strife, and of exile and privation, and though he'd seen the very worst that humans could do both to his kind and to their own, Nuada found the poignant words difficult to read much to his surprise, and that troubled him. In the normal course of events such an account would not have concerned him in the slightest. True, it was a glimpse of tragedy on a personal and intimate level and he knew just how profoundly disturbing a thing that could be to a sympathetic outsider however to feel this way on behalf of a human was something he'd never thought to experience. It struck him forcefully just how much he'd let the woman on his lap get under his skin and that brought all his ambivalence to the fore once again. But in a relatively short space of time he'd already learnt enough about her to have a care for how she might be feeling and what's more, he'd just asked her to stay with him for a while longer once he had his sister back. He knew there was no turning his back on her now and all he could do was wonder at his own part in it all.

A stinging sensation on his forearm suddenly distracted Nuada from his troubling thoughts and he looked down to see that Elfraine had a tight hold of him. Her hands were curled almost into claws and her nails were digging into him through the material of his shirt. He knew she had no idea what she was doing and as he raised his gaze to her bent head, he could only imagine how the words, and memories, were affecting her. She was tense and still and she hadn't made a sound but as he leaned forward to get a better view of her, he was not surprised to see tears on her cheeks.

Elfraine, lost in her own dark thoughts, didn't notice his scrutiny at first. When she finally did, she started and relaxed her hold on him. "I-I'm sorry," she murmured as she released his arm. She tried to wipe away her tears but Nuada caught her hand and stopped her. Instead, he pulled down the sleeve of his shirt and dried them for her.

"Th-thank you," she said unsteadily. "When I woke her... that was the last time I ever hugged her. I... I wish I'd held her for just a little longer," Elfraine whispered as she stared down at her empty arms. "And I wish to God I'd never lit that candle," she added in bitter self-recrimination.

"I doubt it would have made any difference," Nuada told her gently. "With cracked ribs and a child to carry – and a determined enemy in pursuit - you would probably not have gotten very far in the dark in such unfamiliar and difficult terrain."

"Put like that, I suppose I was indeed swimming against the tide," Elfraine admitted with a watery grimace. "But thanks to my one small, thoughtless act, I never even got the chance to at least attempt the thing."

"In other words, you never got your chance to 'rage against the dying of the light'," Nuada said with quiet understanding.

"That... that is exactly it," agreed Elfraine slowly, much struck by his insight.

"I am sorry this pains you so," he said as he pushed back her hair from her face.

"Ah," she sighed, relaxing back into him once more. "Thank you for the sentiment. You know, the passage of four hundred years has worn the sharp edges off much that happened, yet my grief and guilt over Fortune's death are as piercing now as they were then. It is in the nature of this dragon's curse that it..."

"You think the dragon's immortality a curse?" Nuada broke in, greatly surprised.

"What else could it be?" Elfraine countered as she looked up at him.

"Surely it is a gift!" he replied, unable to comprehend that any human would consider it a curse. "I have watched your kind over thousands of years and I've found that in every age, immortality has been the ultimate desire of your proud, hollow hearts." Nuada suddenly realised how his words must sound to her, and sought to soften them. "I offer no insult to _you_ but I have seen many humans deliberately crush my people in selfish, futile quests to steal for themselves the ability to live forever. I cannot believe that _any_ human would not consider it a great prize."

Nuada's words did not offend Elfraine in the slightest. In truth she was grateful for the distraction from the written ones in front of her; they were proving to be every bit as difficult to revisit as she'd feared and she was more than willing to put off reading any more for a while longer if she could. Consequently she said rather more in reply to the Elven prince than she might have otherwise.

"I would have agreed with you once... before I was made immortal," she conceded. "However the only good thing I've found in any of it is the chance to make up for my mistake in accepting Gretheved's offer all those years ago and maybe put things right for my daughter, and if I can do that then it will have been worth it. But otherwise, though I live in this world I have no true place in it. I make my way through it well enough but it is so changed from the one I was born into and the one I expected to die in that I sometimes think I am dreaming." Her voice dropped almost to a whisper as she continued speaking. "And worst of all, I... I know what it's like to outlive everyone you love. No matter how many people I fill my life with, I'll always be the one to farewell them and they'll all leave me behind... because unlike them I'll never make that final stand against death and discover what lies beyond. I stand forever apart from every other human being on this earth. How can such an existence be anything but a curse?"

Nuada was taken aback at her words; such a view had never occurred to him. He thought of the life-spans of his own kind; they were far longer than those of any human, apart from the woman he held now, but though the Sons of the Earth would never die from old age they were not truly immortal, being prey as they were to all the other things that could kill a living creature. Indeed, very few of his kind had ever reached the truly vast ages of the old gods and some of the greater dragons, thanks largely to the murderous avarice and ambition of humans. But from the oldest of those ancient fae to the very youngest of his people, there were unbroken webs of Light - the very heart of their magic and kinship - weaving them all together through time and space, and though over the course of his life he'd spent many lonely centuries living apart from them, Nuada could not imagine being so cast adrift from his own kind as Elfraine seemed from hers. What would be left to fight for otherwise?

It was an unceasing torment to him that he'd failed his people four years ago with the Golden Army and that their cause had only grown more desperate in the years he'd been dead but he was still a part of them and had everything in common with them, and he would do all he could to wrest from the relentless human foe a proper place in this world for them. He suddenly understood that to forever stand apart from _his_ people in any way would be a curse indeed, and hard on the heels of that realisation came the one that he _already_ stood too far apart from many of them, including his own sister, in his determination not to let them fade.

For all that he'd so confidently asserted before the Elven court four years ago that all of his people would answer his call to arms, he'd never made the mistake of thinking it would be easy to carry all the fae with him in his quest. But nor had he ever properly appreciated, until now, just how vast a gulf lay between the very many who took the view his sister did and the somewhat fewer numbers who supported him. The purpose that had driven him for the better part of four thousand years was as strong as ever - indeed not even death had dimmed his determination on that score - but Nuada realised now that if he was to ever achieve his purpose he needed to somehow bring the opposing factions within his own kind closer together before he even thought about striking out at the enemy as he'd attempted to do four years ago with the Golden Army.

And with that insight, his wish to reconcile with his sister hardened into a conviction that he first had to mend his fences with her and find some way to win her to his cause. From her desperate actions in Ireland four years ago, he understood now he could not overwhelm her and force her support for him. Instead he would have to somehow find an argument which would convince her, and he had an unsettling feeling that that might be the hardest thing of all to do.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Elfraine shifted slightly in his arms and Nuada shook his head as he looked down at her. Once more she'd set him on a path which had led to a deeper understanding of how matters stood and that still disturbed him though not quite so much as before. He was starting to think it might be something he would just have to get used to.

Elfraine glimpsed the slight movement of his head and misinterpreted it. "You would not call such an existence a curse then?" she asked, puzzled as to how anyone could see it as anything but. "I suppose you would add ingratitude to my list of faults too," she muttered darkly as she pulled away from him.

"Yes, I would call such an existence a curse and no, I would not add ingratitude to your list of faults," he told her firmly as he pulled her back against his chest.

"Oh," said Elfraine, mollified by his words and more than happy to stay where she was.

Nuada touched her hair reflexively as he held her and wondered at the life she'd led since she became immortal, being as set adrift from the rest of her kind as she was. "I suppose the journey you speak of has given you a purpose over the centuries," he remarked carefully, as he realised it was probably the only anchor she'd had.

"You are right," she admitted, surprised once again by his insight. "That purpose has been the mainstay of my existence these past two hundred and twenty-odd years, ever since I discovered it in 1793... in the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles. And I look forward to the day, not too far distant, when I can make my charge against time and see if I can't maybe fulfil that purpose and set everything to rights."

Nuada decided he didn't like the sound of that. He took Elfraine's chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her head to fix her with a stern look. "For all you claimed this morning to be uncertain about your plans once you reached the Great Southern Ocean, your talk of a 'charge against time' has a remarkable degree of certainty to it. I repeat my earlier question: what exactly are you going to do?"

Elfraine silently cursed her loose tongue. She was no more inclined to answer him now than she had been that morning and she attempted to fix him with a stern look of her own, which only made him bite back a smile. She was quite certain he wouldn't approve in the slightest of what she was going to do and she was just as sure he would try and stop her. When he'd first visited her home three days ago, she'd mentioned a bigger and older dragon in passing. Well, he certainly didn't need to know she'd discovered the whereabouts of such a dragon and that as she had with the first one four hundred years ago, so was she going to attempt to bend this one to her will... only this time she would be better prepared.

"To tell you exactly what I am going to do would take more time than we presently have. I'm surprised at your willingness to be distracted from our main purpose, which is surely to get your sister back," she informed him tartly. "We can discuss _my_ plans when _she_ is safe."

Nuada knew full well Elfraine was prevaricating once again and had no intention of telling him anything. No matter, he thought to himself. He'd have a whole month to get it out of her once Nuala was back safely and that would be more than enough time. As he'd told Anung un Rama only the day before, there were some interrogations which required a certain amount of finesse and imagination in order to get the job done and hers would no doubt be such a one. However he'd be employing a very different kind of finesse and imagination with Elfraine Somerled, and he'd make sure they both got a great deal of pleasure out of the experience... just as soon as she told him what he wanted to know.

In the meantime though, she made a good point; they needed to focus on his sister for the present. She'd been Gretheved's prisoner for several hours now and there was still much to be done before they could get her back. "Very well then," he said to Elfraine.

She was about to turn back to the book on her knees to start reading again but Nuada hadn't finished yet.

He leaned forward and she thought – hoped - he was going to kiss her but he stopped instead, his lips just a hairsbreadth away from hers.

"Don't make the mistake though of thinking we won't have that discussion, Lady Wylde," he warned her in a low voice, as his hand trailed lightly over her cheek and down her neck, and then more firmly over her breast and stomach before finally coming to rest on her hip.

Elfraine knew immediately what he was about. A sharp wave of desire knifed through her and she bit back a moan as his hand moved sensuously over her body but she couldn't stop herself from arching into his touch. His smug look of satisfaction told her he fully expected to be able to seduce the information from her, and she made a moue of annoyance as she realised he might just end up doing that if her reaction to him now was anything to go by.

Nuada hadn't meant to kiss her; he'd simply intended showing her he'd have her secrets out of her sooner or later. However he took one look at her pouting lips and couldn't help himself. As she opened her mouth to him and his tongue swept inside, he had the feeling he might prove to be his own worst enemy in the business of finding out what she was up to. By the time _she_ broke off their kiss he was fully and painfully aroused, and as she started to move restlessly on his lap, her soft curves both teasing and tormenting the hard length of him, he knew immediately what _she_ was about. The slightly smug look Elfraine now wore as he grabbed her hips and stilled her movements told him he might not have as easy a time of it as he'd thought and he frowned in annoyance as he realised all he could do was hope he could make her give up her secrets before he gave in to his desire for her.

But both Nuada's annoyance and his desire were quickly replaced by concern as they began reading once more. As she started on the next passage, a small tremor ran through Elfraine and she clung to him as if he were a lifeline, and he found he was more than willing to be that for her if he could.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Corse: (archaic) corpse.

Quiet Moon: Celtic name for the full moon in January.

Mews: row of stables.

'The game is up_' __– _Shakespeare, _Cymbeline_, Act 3, Scene 3. (_All is lost_.)

'rage against the dying of the light': from 'Do not go gentle into that good night' - Dylan Thomas, 1951.


	32. Chapter 31

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**A/N: Warning for death of a child.  
><strong>It's a shorter chapter than I intended but I split this one and the next one up in case anyone doesn't want to read about the death of a child. (The next one will be the end of the diaries.)

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 31**

Sometimes he angers me  
>With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,<br>Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,  
>And of a dragon, and a finless fish,<br>A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,  
>A couching lion and a ramping cat,<br>And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff  
>As puts me from my faith.<br>**Shakespeare, **_**Henry IV, Part I, Act 3, Scene 1.**_

.

_**Blackstone Castle, January 14**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>And now to the part that cuts so deep, I do not know how it is I still breathe. _

_We stopped short as we came upon the depraved creatures gathered in the stables, lying in wait for us. Would that I could forget that terrible sight but I cannot cast it from my mind. They were dressed in black robes all and hid their faces from the eyes of the world behind feathered masks of black silk. Their leader - the foul, evil beast I'd called husband - wore a headdress made from the tanned skin of a stag's head, the blackened antlers of which were decked with mistletoe garlands from the autumn oaks. Some few of the grooms held torches; the light cast by the flames played about the empty eye sockets of the poor animal, and burned in the vile, green eyes of the monster beneath._

_My heart faltered for a moment then raced with such fright I thought it would burst from my chest. In the past I have dreamt of falling only to awake from such nightmares with a great, terrifying jolt and much distressed, and so I felt now. I would to God it were only a dream but it was not. The ground had fallen away from under me, and a sick feeling arose in my gullet, threatening to choke me. The horses in the stalls shifted restlessly, distracting our enemies for a moment, and I wheeled around, holding Fortune's small hand tightly in mine, and started to run. But we got no more than a dozen feet when they were upon us, grasping and tearing at us, pulling us apart and holding each of us helplessly captive. It was beyond me to dissemble anymore and as my dear child beheld the fear I could no longer hide, she became scared and started sobbing. She called out to me - her mother and the one who should have protected her - but I could not get to her though every fibre of my being strained towards her. _

_With the Devil leading the way, they dragged us – me pleading and Fortune crying - to the far side of the keep and there in the meadow, surrounded by the trees and standing in the shadows cast by three bonfires set about the glade, was the rest of the unholy company. They were all masked and I could not tell who was who. A great stone had been placed in the centre of the clearing and some way behind it was a towering wicker man. At the base of the effigy were two white bulls tethered to stakes. I spared these sights but a glance for it was the hellish accoutrements laid out upon the demonic altar that captured my eyes. A black cerement lay draped over the stone, and on top of the cloth were a large, bone-white chalice and a knife with a finely-wrought handle and wicked-looking blade. Seven brownish-white candles, which burned with an eerie blue flame, lined a shallow, water-filled tub at the base of the altar. _

_My captors stopped a short distance from the stone and held me fast between them but Fortune was taken all the way to the pedestal and sat up upon it. She made to get down but was easily subdued by two of the Devil's followers; they each held one of her small arms, and all she could do was sit there and wait, terrified and trembling and crying out for me to come to her. I struggled against the men who had me but I could not break free and my daughter's frantic pleas went unanswered._

_The foul, depraved creature I'd wed stood before me and gave me an evil smile which held nothing of kindness in it. I drew breath to plead for mercy for Fortune and beg him take my life instead but he shoved a cloth in my mouth and bound it shut so I could not utter a word. _

"_You might be tempted to make some... noise at what you are about to see, madam wife," he sneered, "and I cannot allow you to disrupt the ceremony. I might point out, it is a sight I sought to spare you – I find I have grown quite fond of you, after all - however your meddling has cost you my mercy and earned you instead a place in the yard with the groundlings tonight." _

_Then he seized hold of me and pulled me tight against the cold, hard length of him and ground his hips into mine; I could not mistake his meaning and nor could he mistake my disgust for it must have been writ clear upon my face. He gave me that look once more – a smile yet not a smile - and released me. Then he turned his back on me and crossed over to the altar to stand behind my dear girl._

**... ...**

Nuada was seized by a feeling of disgust himself as he read the words. He recalled her warning that there was worse to come than a mere push or sore arm, and realised the beating Gretheved had given Elfraine was not the only thing she was referring to when she'd cautioned him. He silently renewed his vow that her third husband would pay, and pay dearly, for what he'd done to her. He also decided not to seduce the information about her journey out of her, even assuming he could; he knew full well that in that instance it would be nothing but force in another guise. She'd tell him if she wanted to otherwise he'd respect her wishes and leave her be on that score... and trust she wasn't going to do anything foolhardy.

_**January 14**__**th  
><strong>The Devil held up his hand and all talk ceased. For a brief moment the only sounds were the wind in the trees and the crackling of the bonfires. The air was heavy with wood smoke and something else I cannot name, and the night had a thick, black life of its own. It seemed as if all time was balanced on the edge of a precipice, and then the Devil started to speak. _

"_I call on the old Gods, Taranis, Esus and Teuttades, and bid you hear my plea. Accept the sacrifices I make this night and intercede on my behalf with the great master whom I have faithfully served through all the years of my life - the unseen Darkness between the Light... the one who fills the cosmos, and who resides in the empty spaces of every atom of every living being," he intoned._

"_Hear our Dark Lord, the Druídubh Gretheved, and grant him the boon he seeks," chanted his loathsome acolytes._

"_This night will see my offerings number the lives of seven thousand innocents and in one more year I will step into the fires of Samhain to complete the ritual. I pray my sacrifices please Taranis, Esus and Teuttades, and dispose them to present my petition to our great overlord," he continued._

"_Hear our Dark Lord, the Druídubh Gretheved, and grant him the boon he seeks," chanted his depraved followers for the second time._

" '_An it please Taranis, Esus and Teuttades, 'an it please our Dark Master, in one year's time by my body I will take my place amongst his servants and aid him in the fight for His dark kingdom," he swore. _

"_Hear our Dark Lord, the Druídubh Gretheved, and grant him the boon he seeks," chanted the foul creatures for the third and final time._

_Then the evil monster wove a spell in a language I had never heard. Sometimes I thought I recognised a word of Gaelic as was spoken in the area just across the border from Miles Cross Hall but for the most part, what was said was incomprehensible to me. As he spoke, a wild wind blew up and whipped through the trees, and I could see dark shapes moving out in the forest and hear the howling of hellish beasts. I fancied they were the witches and demons and ghosts, and the barghest, all come down from Fiend's Fell to celebrate the Devil's unholy Mass. Little did I know as I'd spoken of those creatures the day I arrived at this cursed place that I would meet such harbingers and hellions soon enough._

_Suddenly the chanting stopped and the Devil raised his arm behind my daughter. I saw he had an axe in his hand. Time fell off the precipice as her eyes caught mine in a final, desperate plea for help, and then he brought the poll of the axe down hard on the back of her head with a sickening thud, caving in her skull in an instant and stunning but not yet killing her. Oh, how to describe the numbness and shock as I beheld the pain and fear on her darling face, with the blood running down her cheeks and coming out of her nose. She tried to speak but only choked on the blood that issued from her mouth now... and would that God had helped her then for her ordeal was not yet ended._

_The loathsome creature placed a garrotte around her neck and twisted it from behind, with a stick. There was a snapping sound and as her head lolled forward, I knew her neck to be broken. But still she was not yet dead; her tiny chest rose and fell as she struggled desperately for breath. I tried to breathe for her but I couldn't, and an indescribable pain rose up in me as I beheld the suffering of my child. She was so loved and cherished, and I cannot understand why she should meet with such an end._

_And then the monster gestured to the two holding her still and they lifted her and placed her in the shallow tub of water at the base of the altar and held her under to finally snuff out the light of her life. She could not move, her neck being broken, and I can only guess at the final struggle that took place in her mind before she was forced to give it up forever. But 'ere she died, the Devil dealt her one final blow. He knelt before the water, with the chalice in one hand and the knife in the other, and he plunged the dagger into her heart and caught her life's blood in the cup as it flowed from her body, first the thick blood, then the thin, and then her very heart's blood until at last there was no more within. _

_And so she died - a girl so longed for and loved, a small ray of light who brightened the world in her own happy way - delighting in her every minute and never harming any... and who surely takes her place amongst the Angels in Heaven now. _

_And as she passed, so I died too... though I must roam this earth a while longer yet._

_But that was not the end of it; those wicked, evil creatures were not quite finished with my darling's poor, abused body. Some of the men moved to the white bulls and quickly slit their throats with sickles. The great beasts collapsed upon the ground, and then Fortune's broken little frame was placed atop the carcasses and a torch set to the base of the wicker effigy. It all went up in flames, very quickly, and I soon heard a terrible, unearthly shrieking. My first thought was that Fortune was not dead and was now burning in the fire but I could see shapes writhing inside the wicker man and I realised there were more sacrifices within... whether man or beast, I did not know. Nor could I say I cared; my daughter was dead, killed most horribly before my eyes, and I could no longer bear the weight of it. As the Devil raised the blood-filled chalice to his lips and the Bacchanal began, I sank into unconsciousness and that is all I recall of that awful night __and most of the weeks which have passed since then__... though God knows, that is more than enough._

_Allison told me some time later that Fortune had died the threefold death of the ancients, being hung, drowned and impaled. The axe blow to the head had been merely to stun her. I cannot fathom why such suffering would be visited on anyone, let alone a child... let alone _my_ child. I can write no more this night. I must stop now for the demons in my head will not let me be and I hear Fortune's voice on the wind once more. Though my mind tells me she is dead, yet my heart hopes I am mistaken, and when I hear her calling to me I cannot help but look for her... as I must do now._

**... ...**

A chill ran through Nuada as he read the stark, terrible words of death and madness but most of all, of grief. He didn't need to look at Elfraine to know how the account affected her; he could feel it in the tense way she held herself and the small tremors she couldn't suppress. But she surprised him by speaking first.

"Is... is there anything in there of any use to you?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "I would hate to think this has all been for nothing," she added with just a hint of bitterness.

"Yes," he replied in an even tone as he reached up to touch her hair. "There is much in there of use and I am grateful you had the strength to write it all down as you did, though I can only guess at what it cost you to do so."

"Will it help destroy him once and for all, do you think?" Elfraine asked pensively as she leaned into his touch.

"I think it will give us a clearer idea of what we must do next," Nuada answered carefully. "I know the Gods he speaks of. They number amongst the old ones once worshipped by _all_ of the peoples of the earth though they were known by different names in different places. I have heard too, of the threefold-death however the rest of the ritual you describe is not familiar to me." He hesitated over what he had to say next but felt Elfraine deserved to know the truth. "It was often the case that in their quests to fill the holes in their hearts, humans would turn the worship of the Gods into something entirely different, and forget or ignore the importance of keeping the earth whole and in balance. That may have been what Gretheved did."

"But how is it he is still alive?" asked Elfraine. "And what... what is he about now? Is it possible the old Gods granted him his wish, whatever it was? Perhaps that is why he now lives."

"I do not know... though I feel I should have a better idea than I do at present," answered Nuada slowly, as he wondered about his lack of knowledge. Since he'd returned from the dead some four months ago, he'd felt as if he was wandering in a thick fog, lost, and though he now had some answers there was still much that was unclear to him. About only thing he was certain of was that it should not be so. He and his sister were of royal Elven blood and were amongst the most powerful fae alive. Between the two of them they should have known what was happening but for some reason neither of them appeared to have the faintest idea what was going on, and not just because of the great chasm between them. There was something more to it than that, and the only thing Nuada could do was seek advice from the few remaining wise ones such as Gràinne and hope to find the answers there.

"Do... do you think he actually killed seven thousand children?" asked Elfraine hesitantly, breaking in on his thoughts.

"It is difficult to believe he could have killed so many and not been held to account for it," replied Nuada, as he looked down at her. He bit back the words "even by your kind", recognising them for what they were and deciding they were better left unsaid; the world was already awash with such small, thoughtless tokens of cruelty, and the woman he held would not be well-served by having him add to the tide and heap some of them upon her now, however indirectly and unintentionally.

"I know... but ... what about all those bones I saw when I made my way into the chamber in the mountain the day Fortune got lost playing hide and seek with Allison?" she mused. "All those poor, poor children... and my own poor dear girl."

"Maybe he did manage it then," said Nuada. "But surely the loss of so many, even over many years, would have been noticed and commented on." He was felt a stab of concern at the sudden look of sadness that appeared in Elfraine's eyes.

"I would not be so sure of that," she remarked broodingly.

Nuada understood immediately what she meant. He remembered his earlier realisation that by the time she'd met Gretheved, she had no family or friends left to come to her aid.

"There was no one but me to notice Fortune was no longer in the world and had Gretheved killed me as well, there would have been none at all to mark _my_ absence," Elfraine continued. "Perhaps it was so with the others he killed. He certainly proved in the case of Fortune and I, at least, his vicious cunning in picking victims who couldn't mount a successful defence... though I trust I finally proved in my turn that I was not as helpless as he first thought."

"I think you can safely say you did that, Lady, if the look on his face this morning when he first saw you again gave any indication," said Nuada, as he touched her cheek.

"Well, I suppose that is something," replied Elfraine darkly. "But unfortunately, I was too... upset to fully appreciate the sight."

"Then I hope you will take my word for it that he most certainly does not mistake you as helpless now," Nuada assured her.

"I'll gladly take your word for it," said Elfraine with a wry half-smile, as she slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest.

Nuada picked up the old Bible and placed it on her lap again. Before he started reading though, he leant down to speak to her, his hair falling forward and lightly brushing against her cheek. "And Lady," he murmured.

"Mmm," she replied, shifting her head slightly so she could look up at him.

"As long as I still draw breath, _I_ will notice in the unlikely event you are ever not in this world," he told her quietly before he pressed his dark lips to hers in a long, slow kiss. He knew of an enchantment that would alert him to such a thing and he decided that before they parted he would work the magic so he could keep his promise to her if need be.

His words caused something warm and alive to move in Elfraine as she returned his embrace but the feeling was almost immediately swamped by a great sadness. She recalled her thought from earlier in the day that if she succeeded in her journey, he wouldn't know she'd ever existed. It occurred to her now that if he didn't know she'd ever existed then he would never mark her absence in the world. Hard on the heels of that thought came the one that if she was successful in what she was going to attempt then she might likewise never know _he_ existed... and the idea of that made her heart grow strangely heavy.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

The yard: (16th and 17th century theatres) the place directly in front of the stage where the commoners (groundlings) paid one penny to stand and watch the play.

Barghest: see references for chapter 28. (English folklore - basically, a demon dog.)

Fiend's Fell: see references for chapter 28. (Old name for Cross Fell, the highest point in the Pennine Hills of northern England.)

"The air was heavy with wood smoke and something else I cannot name, and the night had a thick, black life of its own" – these lines were inspired by Mike Oldfield's song "Moonlight Shadow" with vocals by Maggie Reilly _('the air was heavy and the night was alive'_).

The ritual described in the story is based in part on Pliny the Elder's account of the Druidic ritual of oak and mistletoe. It's also inspired by Steeleye Span's version of the old songs 'Little Sir Hugh' (Child's Ballad #155) and 'Long Lankin' (Child's Ballad #93). (The description of the thick blood, the thin, and the heart's blood is taken directly from Steeleye Span's 'Little Sir Hugh'.)

Taranis, Esus and Teuttades: old Celtic Gods (Taranis – thunder; Esus - vegetation/forests; Teuttades – warrior/tribal protector). Sometimes identified incorrectly as a sacred triad though that's how I've grouped them for this story.

Druídubh: dark sorcerer (Old Irish – druí, meaning 'druid' or 'sorcerer'; Gaelic – dubh, meaning black or dark).

Poll of the axe: back of the axe.

Threefold death: also called the 'triple death'. Thought to be a form of sacrifice practiced by the ancient Celts. See Clarke, D, "_A Guide to Britain's Pagan Heritage_", (London, Robert Hale, 1995), p. 89.


	33. Chapter 32

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**A/N: Warning for implied rape.  
><strong>Also, the quote below appears at the top of the last chapter as well but I've kept it here because they were originally going to be one chapter and it really relates to both of them.

**Chapter 32**

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sometimes he angers me  
>With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,<br>Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,  
>And of a dragon, and a finless fish,<br>A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,  
>A couching lion and a ramping cat,<br>And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff  
>As puts me from my faith.<br>_**Shakespeare, **_**Henry IV, Part I, Act 3, Scene 1.**_

As they drew apart, Nuada saw the faintest hint of sadness in the golden-brown depths of Elfraine's eyes. "You look cast down, Lady. It does not find favour with you that I would mark your passing from this world?" he asked with a slight frown. "I know you are not likely to die but nevertheless, I mean what I say."

Elfraine reached up to touch his face. "Oh Nuada, it's not that," she assured him. A faint tinge of colour touched her cheeks as she continued to speak. "I'm greatly honoured that you offer to do such a thing for me, and I'll count your promise amongst my most precious treasures. It's just... just the events of this day I suppose. It has not been what I thought it would be," she finished pensively.

"Nor has it been at all what _I _expected," he murmured, burying his hand in her hair and cupping the back of her head.

He stared down into her eyes as though searching for something, and Elfraine became more than a little disconcerted under his intent gaze.

"Um... th-there's not a great deal left to read now," she stammered, not knowing what else to say. She looked back down at the book and attempted to recover her composure. "From memory, the... the remainder describes the months after Fortune's death, my meeting with the dragon – and finding those two," she added with a nod in the direction of the young dragons, stone for now and stretched out atop the balustrade of the balcony like decorative carvings. "Then I think the final entry tells of my decision to kill Gretheved. I don't know that you'll discover much more of use about him in this last part, though you're welcome to read it if you wish."

"Then I'll do just that, if you don't mind," Nuada said, without hesitation.

"Not at all," Elfraine replied, "but I don't think I'll read it. I cover myself in shame with that episode, and I cringe now at the thought of my blind audacity and naive stupidity. Indeed, I think you'll arrive back at having no good opinion of me by the time you've finished reading that last part," she muttered darkly as she made to stand.

Nuada grasped her hips and held her still for a moment as he gave her a long, considering look. "We shall see," he said, not very reassuringly to her ears, and then he let her go.

With a small grimace, Elfraine stood up and moved away. She picked up her embroidery frame from the floor opposite and walked over to a large window at one end of the room. Sitting on a hard-backed chair to one side and with the late afternoon sun streaming in on her through the glass, she bent her head and started sewing once more.

Nuada gave her one last, thoughtful look before turning his attention back to the old Bible.

_**Blackstone Castle, February 13**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>It has been a long, cold month since I last opened this book. I must take care in what I do as I can trust no one in this house and my every move is watched with a close eye, though for what reason I do not know. I am as nothing now – if indeed I ever counted for anything - and _my stars shine darkly over me_. What rub could I possibly throw in his way? He is fond of me, the Devil says, and he is not yet done with me so it may be he fears I will escape to where he cannot follow. But he need not fash himself – I will not embark upon that final journey 'ere the appointed hour for I know I must do penance here on earth until such time as God and Nature see fit to release me from this _mortal coil_. And 'tis meet that the Devil is my warder now for I was the witless fool who agreed to all he proposed and in so doing, delivered my innocent and trusting child up to the slaughter. _

_I'll not let him have his way in all things though; he would destroy this record if he knew I kept it so I hide it, along with my inkwell and quill. I write late at night when all have gone, and only then by the dying light of the fire for I cannot risk lighting a candle - and God knows I wish that were a lesson I'd learnt much earlier._

'_Tis a rare clear night this night, and the stars adorn the firmament like glittering chips of diamond with the centre stone - the ancients' Moon of Ice - a silver-white pearl set in the dark vault of the sky. We called this moon the Storm Moon back home but either name will serve; the winter weather may have eased without but an icy tempest continues unabated in my heart and grey mists wrap about my mind, dulling all within me but my pain. _

_Allison has been an almost constant companion this whole time. Mercifully, she speaks but little and I pay her little heed. Every now and again though, an evanescent whisper or murmur tumbles from her lips and catches on the edge of my mind for an instant before vanishing into the mist. I can hardly stand to look at her for I know she took a willing part in the hellish ritual the night my daughter was murdered. However the Devil has set her to watch on me and I have no say in the matter though it would do me no good even if I did._

_Barely a word have I been able to speak to him since the terrible events of All Hallows' Eve. A cold numbness seizes me in his presence and though my mind churns, my body freezes and the power of speech is beyond me. Last __se'n night__ he told me I must start to be a proper wife to him once more and he has asserted his rights as husband since then. I turn away and would deny him but he asks no leave of me... and takes his ease on me regardless. It is my duty as wife, he told me after that first time, laid down by the laws of both God – _your_ God, he said - and man, and _I_ must submit as _he_ requires. I am powerless to do aught but endure his touch – the touch of the filthy monster who stole my daughter's life – until he is finished. _

_I discovered yesterday that Allison loves him and I wish he returned her feelings for she is welcome to him. He came to me last night, as is his wont, and stopped at the threshold to address some words to her before she retired for the evening. As he turned and started towards me, I glanced up and surprised a look of such yearning on her face as left me in little doubt of her true feelings for him. He told me some time past that Allison Gross is known as the ugliest witch in the North Country though I could not then see why she should be so called. Indeed, she is very fair to look upon, with gold-spun hair, sky-blue eyes and a fine, trim figure. However I know now that she serves the Devil and perhaps that is how she came by the epithet. But whatever the case, they are a well-matched pair –the Devil and a witch - and I wish he would take her to his bed as she desires and leave me be... for he does make me sick to my stomach and his very existence is a hellish torment to my every sense._

**... ...**

As he read, Nuada's grip on the book tightened unconsciously and a fierce, savage anger swept through him. When he'd finished the entry, he looked down at his hands and thought of how he'd rather they were wrapped around Gretheved's neck at this moment as he slowly – very slowly - squeezed the life out of him. He struggled to rein in his fury; it was not yet the time to let it loose. Unable to help himself, he glanced up at Elfraine but she was busy with her sewing and didn't see the dark look of rage on his face as he contemplated all that her third husband had done to her. As he watched her though, the cold, hard glitter in his eyes softened a little and he resumed his reading.

_**March 15**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>Another month has gone by. The Moon of Winds brings change to the land as the seasons turn. Winter has all but passed and in the meadows, the birds on the spray proclaim the arrival of spring. The swallows and nightingales have returned from their winter flight, and I listen to their songs in the dawn hours as the world awakens. The sun grows warmer and the days longer and brighter, and the vernal bloom of trees and flowers bursts forth everywhere with new life as the bees go about their business. _

_The ancients' moon heralds change even in me; though my heart be frozen for all time yet the grey mists of winter begin to loosen their grip on my mind, and my thoughts regain something of their former sharpness. Last fortnight I asked Allison where my daughter lay buried and she told me that on All Souls' Day, her bones were gathered from the ashes of the fire and washed before being placed in the cavern in the mountain with the others. So my Fortune does now indeed lie amongst that cold and silent company, and it makes my heart ache anew to think that should I make my way in there again, I would not know which of those earthly remains were hers._

_I have noticed too that Allison is unhappy and grows more so with each passing day. Three days ago I looked out my window and saw her in the courtyard below, conversing with the detestable creature to whom I am so damnably wed. Though I could not hear what they said, I could tell from her appearance that she was mightily upset. She gestured frantically in the direction of my room and had a wild look about her person. The Devil laid his hands upon her and stroked and kissed her into silence, and in that moment I knew they had been lovers long 'ere he ensnared me. It makes no matter though; as before, she is welcome to him and I wish he would leave me be but it seems he is disinclined to please either of us in that._

_Allison's whispering grows apace, though to what purpose I do not know. Her talk is _strange...passing strange_: seven leagues to the magic forest and then one more to go beyond nature; a wild ride - seven times seven leagues, and seven days and seven nights; seven charms and seven trials ... and finally a name of great power, to wrest from the wyrm the heart's desire. I put my hands to my ears when she speaks such madness for though I bid her hold her tongue, she will not. The fierce look in her eye chills me to the marrow and I now do verily believe what they say - that she is indeed the ugliest witch in the North Country. _

_**April 1**__**st**__**, 1615.  
><strong>_'_Tis all Fool's Day and the world is turned upside down once more. _Hell is empty and all the devils are here _for_ _the demon I wed has summoned his coven to him. Allison tells me Lord Estbury's man reprises his role from the Feast of Fools this Christmas past; he is Lord of Misrule for the day and she is once again his Lady. Being so out of my mind as I was, I had no knowledge of the Feast being held and I am grateful not to be forced to take part in their unholy Bacchanal now, so different is it from our celebration of this day at Miles Cross Hall in former years... and so set against the foul creatures of this house as I am._

_Allison was at me again yesterday, whispering and murmuring in my ear and always at my side. Her wild talk vexes me still but every now and then I catch myself paying heed to what she says. She claims to know the name of a great wyrm and says she will tell me the secret so I may gain what she knows to be my heart's desire though it goes against God and Nature. But I have wondered more and more lately whether I should have a care for either. And then I wonder who the greater fool is: her for her wicked talk or me for countenancing it._

_**April 12**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>Today we would have celebrated my darling girl's sixth birthday. Each second has passed in agonising torment though I deserve no less, and there are still hours to go yet until it is over. Memories of this day in other years dart about my mind and her dear, sweet face has been before my eyes constantly, either laughing and happy... or as she was in her last moments on this earth, so cruelly broken and dying. I cannot say which hurts more. A scythe forged from grief and with an edge keener than any blade ever had, hacks endlessly into my heart and I cannot move... I can barely breathe and I am pushed from one minute to the next, finding nothing but the same reminders of just what was lost... and of the hand I had in it all._

_I have listened to Allison today with a closer ear than ever I did. Tomorrow night's Growing Moon must have me in its thrall for the witch's talk has taken root within me and I begin to discern faint shoots of hope in the wilderness. Thoughts of the harvest they may bring play much upon my mind. I asked her why she was wont to help me and bid her not say me false for I knew she loved the Devil and so must hate me. Though my plain speaking surprised her, she answered readily enough. When first he brought me to Blackstone Castle, he swore I too would die at Samhain and then he would marry her, and she would rule by his side as queen of his heart – filthy, shrivelled thing that it be, if he has one at all. But thus far he has not kept his word and nor will he ever, she now believes. Her love has turned to bitter hate, and she seeks to spite him in revenge for his false promise by helping me revoke his sacrifice, and so upset his plans. I care not for his plans but Allison's talk of revocation interests me a great deal._

_She has gone for now and the Devil will come knocking on my door soon enough but I will talk with her tomorrow once I have thought on what she told me this day._

_**April 13**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>I spoke again with Allison today and am inclined to believe her. The Devil came to me last night and when he'd finished he reminded me – as if it were needed – of the anniversary of my daughter's birthday. I think his cruel remark was designed to wrest some word or two from my lips and if it had meant he would leave, even only a second sooner than otherwise, I'd have willingly obliged him... but for the life of me I could make no response._

_I descry the same crushing pattern in all the days and nights left to me and I cannot bear the thought of it. I am at a crossroads and must make a choice. Fate may well be guiding my hand though; the Devil told Allison we are to travel to Miles Cross Hall after Easter... and if I am to do as she says then that is where I need to be._

_**April 19**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>_'_Tis Resurrection Day and Allison has been at me every hour this day. She no longer whispers but rather talks with resolution. I have made up my mind to attempt the thing... and damn the consequences. Her chattering ceased but momentarily when I told her this. We travel to Miles Cross in two days' and I am to set out on my own journey after that. The Devil will not hinder me for soon after our arrival at Miles Cross, he goes to visit with the sycophant Harleston - to celebrate Beltaine - and will stay on there for a fortnight afterwards. Allison is to accompany him but she will school me in what I must do so I may proceed with my plan once they have set out for Harleston's lair._

_**Miles Cross Hall, May 8**__**th**__**, 1615.  
><strong>The thing is done and I have won the prize! And now I am fair wild with a strange, nervous agitation as I await the fulfilment of the great dragon's promise. I have naught to do but bide my time, and so I write now of the fantastic events of the last fortnight in order to while away the hours until my wish comes true._

_We arrived at Miles Cross Hall on the 24__th__ of the month past. It struck me just how much I have missed everyone here, and I found it a great comfort to be at last among people who had known and loved my daughter and who shared in my grief at her death. And their sorrow was still fresh for the Devil, God rot his filthy soul, had only two days earlier sent ahead the news of Fortune's passing. _

_I was wont to weep when I spoke with young Jamie Langham and Clemence Fitton. They were some years older than Fortune but were particularly fond of her and always had a care for her in their play. They were now greatly distressed at the awful news. In their sorrow, I noticed a particular affinity of feeling between them, and it struck me that they might make a match of it in years to come. I do most sincerely hope every happiness attaches on them if that is the path they take in their lives, though it grieved my heart sore on Fortune's part when I recalled my wish that she might marry Jamie, or someone like him. It went hard with me to know my hopes would never be realised and my daughter would never experience the fullness of the life which was so cruelly stolen from her... unless I succeeded in what I was about to do._

_The monstrous creature told my tenants she'd been carried off by a fever. I had thought to reveal to them upon our arrival the truth of what happened but quickly realised that would not answer. Lord Sleford, who is one of his craven, crook-pated cronies, is the magistrate in these parts, and the Devil has the King's own ear. And too, there is not a single witness who would step forth and attest to the truth of that accursed day. _I _am the one who would have been judged – wicked and mad, I've no doubt - and I would likely have found myself committed to the care of the Governors of Bridewell, as my poor mother was. 'Twas more certain than ever that my only hope lay in following Allison's advice._

_I spent four days in close conversation with Allison until I had all her instructions by heart for she said I was not to write anything down. Then on the 29__th__ she set forth with the Devil and his entourage, bound for Harleston's place, and I had but one more day to wait before I could undertake my own journey. _

_April 30__th__ dawned bright and clear, and never had it felt as if a day held so much hope as that one did. I dressed for travel but was too full of excited expectation to break my fast, and spent the morning pacing the gardens, running through Allison's instructions in my mind. A little before noon, the hour appointed for my departure, I put on the green mantle Allison had said I must wear and gathered in my pack the charms she'd procured for me: holy water, blessed salt, a Druid's crystal stone of power, the Rune of Algiz, a dragon's scale, a grass-green horn and a compass of the ancients, the Celts as they are called. This last, Allison told me, not only pointed to the four corners of the world in the manner of an ordinary compass but also showed the way to the other realm where I must go – a realm that lay beyond nature, hidden from mortal eyes. Though Allison did not say I should, I wore a gold carcanet in my hair, for I'd heard dragons love such treasure and so I thought it might prove useful. I had in my head the name of the wyrm, and nothing further did I need. I saddled Blythe and, turning northwards, we set out at noon for the forest of Carterhaugh._

'_Ere she left for Harleston's, Allison worked a spell on Blythe's shoes so that my brave and gallant mare would travel without falter. She gave me too a bridle hung with nine and fifty silver bells, and told me my steed would fly swifter than the wind whene'er it rang. With such help as Allison had given me, we made good speed that afternoon and evening, covering seven leagues to arrive at Carterhaugh by nightfall even though I'd stopped often to rest and water Blythe. I thought to take the opportunity where I could for Allison had said that once we were beyond nature we would find neither rest nor food nor water for seven days and seven nights until we reached the lair of the wyrm. One more league we went and then we reached the clearing where at midnight, as Beltaine was ushered in, the compass of the ancients' would point the way to the realm beyond nature... and then my journey would start in earnest._

_There were still some hours to go until midnight so I tethered Blythe and set about brushing her and picking the stones out of her hooves, knowing it would be the last time I could see to her comfort until after our journey was complete. Although there was no moon, yet I was able to manage the job well enough by the starlight. When I'd finished, I sat down and ate some food which I'd thought to bring with me, and then took out the compass and awaited the coming of Beltaine. _

_As I waited, unmoving, the creatures of the night went about their business, and I listened to the sounds they made: the rustling of badgers and hedgehogs as they foraged in the grass for worms and slugs, the whirring flight of a colony of bats as it took to the skies, and the hooting of owls as they sat in the trees, their sharp eyes on the lookout for mice and voles with which to make a savoury meal. I spied a stoat slipping through the grass, and a weasel weaving amongst the thicket, and once, I thought I glimpsed an amber-eyed fox watching me from the bushes but I could not be sure. _

_An eerie silence soon fell over the glade, and the compass in my hand began to glow with a faint, unearthly light and its needle started to move; the hour was nearly upon me. I quickly gathered up my things and mounted Blythe once more, ready to meet whatever might come._

_The needle spun ever more wildly before settling upon the western point, where on its glow grew stronger. I looked out into the darkness and beyond the trees I spied the merest hint of light – so faint that I couldn't be sure I saw it at all. But I turned Blythe around and headed towards it, and as we went the compass glowed ever more fiercely until it was entirely ablaze, like a bright, golden star. And when the light was so bright that my eyes hurt to look on it, I stopped and cast the compass round as Allison had shown me how to do and said the words of the spell she'd given me. _

__As I finished speaking, a wild wind blew up from the north and spun the world in such a tempest that I did not know which way was up and which was down. I quickly remounted Blythe who bridled at the storm and reared up but I kept my seat and held her steady as a rent opened up in the dark fabric of the night and I could see at last beyond the nature of this world and into the realm that lay beyond, hidden from mortal eyes. I wheeled Blythe about and rode as far back from the chasm as I could then turned us about again to face it. With a flick of the reins, I touched my heels lightly to her sides and she was away at full gallop - over the gravel green and over the gravel grey, and all the while heading straight for the void. Then she gathered herself up and I leaned low over her withers as she leapt through the gateway and left living land behind.__

_I found myself in a world that was the same yet different, and a strange, featureless landscape lay ahead of me. There was neither sun nor moon nor any stars but yet I could still see. I held the compass out and quickly set Blythe in the direction where it shone most bright. I recalled Allison's warning regarding the first of my trials; I must ride seven times seven leagues, and seven days and seven nights, neither looking right nor left nor up nor down but keeping my eyes always fixed straight ahead no matter what caught on the periphery and no matter what I heard... for if my gaze strayed even an inch in any direction, all would be lost and the wretched fiends of the Underworld would seize me and bear me away to the burning pits of Hell, there to spend the rest of time - and more - in an agony of unending torment. _

_Keeping my eyes fixed fast in front of me, I gave Blythe her head and she was off like the wind, her bridle ringing and the miles flying by beneath her hooves. I will not dwell much on that ride, for how can I write of an eternity except to say that time had no meaning. Seven days and seven nights I rode through red blood to my knees and through grey, clinging mists. And not for a minute could I forget Allison's warning, for all the while there lurked the spirits of the dead who had been wicked in life, just out of sight and attempting such tricks as to cause me to look their way so they could snatch me down and carry me off to the murky, bloody depths below. Every now and then something would brush against my legs and I was hard pressed at such times not to look down. And the sounds - the unearthly wails and shrieks of souls in torment - which burst forth to startle me and freeze my blood: those too I had to steel myself against else I fail at that first hurdle. _

_We rode through the slithering souls of the dead, never slowing and never stopping, and soon enough it was that I met with my second trial. Dead ahead, from out of the red blood below and the grey mists above, there formed the solid likeness of the foul creature I'd wed. But if the denizens of this hellish place thought to distract me from my object, they were sadly mistaken in their choice of decoy. I held Blythe steady and urged her on - straight at the Devil - and did not shy as I ran him down. He disappeared beneath my gallant steed's hooves, a wisp of mist on the wind, and would that it had in truth been him for no greater satisfaction could I imagine than trampling him into the dirt and putting an end to his filthy, wicked existence._

_Then came my third trial, and if I held the second one cheap then this one cost me dear for dead ahead, from out of the red blood below and the grey mists above, there formed the solid likeness of my own dear daughter.. and God help me, but I had to run straight through her too. My resolve was like to fail me but I held onto my nerve and did the thing, and her likeness disappeared beneath Blythe's hooves, a wisp of mist on the wind._

__On we rode, under that sunless and moonless sky - seventy times seven leagues, and seven days and seven nights - until the blood and the mist were suddenly no more, and I was under a clear sky once again. I could hear the roaring of the sea and smell it in the air and taste it on my tongue, and I knew I had ridden clear through to the Western Isles of the Otherworld where I would find the dragon and wrest from him my heart's desire._ _

_I stood - beyond earthly nature and mortal time - on the edge of a great, soaring cliff which fell sharply to the waves crashing down below. _Above me was a bright, silver moon in a star-filled sky and behind me was a forest dark whilst out in front, against the shimmering horizon and silhouetted in the glow of the night, strange creatures wheeled and banked in the moonlit vault, their faint cries carrying on the wind that blew in from the roaring sea. _And farther along the edge of the cliff was the black mouth of the dragon's cave where I must go that night. _

_I tethered Blythe amongst the trees then took the other charms from my pack and, along with the compass, put them about my girdle for I would need them close at hand for the remaining trials. Once they were safely hung, I stood before the mouth of the cave and turned me right and round about. Then thrice I blew on the grass-green horn and called out the name of the dreaded wyrm. An awful noise, like thunder, came from the cave and a fearsome voice called out, demanding to know who dared disturb the rest of the great beast within. It spoke in a language I had never before heard but yet I understood every word. At the sound of that terrible voice, I turned me three times round and round then bid the wyrm, by the power of his name, to bend to my will and grant me my wish. Once more the thunderous noise issued forth from the depths of the cave and once more the great beast within demanded to know who dared disturb his rest. A traveller from another world, said I, come to win my heart's desire. Three trials of seven have I won, I told him, and I will win the rest that you set. Then for the third and final time, I bound him by his name and bid him come forth and test me._

_In the moment that followed, there was no sound but the crashing of the waves and the sighing of the wind. Then there issued forth from the cave a mighty hissing and a furious roar, and the ground beneath me started to tremble and shake till I could find no purchase with my feet and was thrown to my knees. From far, far down in the black depths of the cave, something moved. It came closer and closer, and to my great surprise there emerged from the darkness not a dragon but a man. But he was like no man I'd ever seen before. Tall, he was, and his eyes glittered green, like emeralds. His skin sparkled, scale-like and iridescent, with every shade of earthy brown, and the surface was threaded through with veins of gold which caused him to shine with his own bright light. I leapt to my feet and stood before him, and he fixed his cold, green gaze upon me. Then he opened his blood-red mouth and bared his pearl-white teeth, and exhaled an icy puff of breath that near froze me where I stood._

_For the briefest instant my heart trembled but Allison had said I must show no fear or all would be lost so I met his eye and held his gaze, and told him I would speak with his master, the great wyrm._

"_I am the great... wyrm," he told me, with a laugh that chilled my blood. "And who are you that disturbs my rest and seeks to bind me with my name?"_

"_I am Elfraine, Countess of Wylde," I answered, "and I will have my heart's desire from you."_

_Thrice he walked around me, slowly, and looked me up and down. "You have another title... Your Grace," he said, coming to a halt before me and staring long and hard. _

_I was loath to admit it but could do naught else under the onslaught of that cold, green gaze. "I am also the Duchess of Rochforte though I do not wish to be known by that title," I told him._

"_And your husband?" he asked, though I was certain he knew the answer._

"_Is the Duke of Rochforte," I replied, deliberately misunderstanding him._

"_Is Guy Grosseteste," he snarled._

"_Is Guy Gretheved," said I, much surprised at his mistake._

"_They are one and the same," he said, dismissively._

_I did not take his meaning and so made no reply._

"_He has sent you," snarled the wyrm._

"_He has not sent me, though he is the reason I am here," I replied. "He murdered my daughter and it is my heart's desire to win her back from the dead. I have your name and I'll undergo the trials you set, and you will give me what I want."_

"_Oh, I will, will I?" he said in a silk-smooth voice that sent shivers up my spine and gave me pause. But I remembered what Allison had told me of the ways of dragons and knew he sought to trick me._

"_I am done with idle chatter," I told him resolutely. "By the power of your name, I bid you commence the trials without further ado!" And so saying, I seized him and held him fast._

_He looked down at me with feigned surprise. "What do you do?" he hissed, dissembling still for he surely knew full well what I was about._

"_Ah, thou art a wily trickster indeed!" I cried out. "I know what I must do and you will not play me false. Cease your subterfuge now, oh sly wyrm! I'll hold you fast as thrice you shape yourself with fearsome aspect, and then I'll hold you fast as you take your true and terrible form, and so I will win my wish and wrest from you my heart's desire. And do not think I will fail, for I have about me such charms and protections as will defeat your artful magic. I command you now, begin!"_

_At my words, a strange look came into his glittering green eyes and for an instant I fancied he was like to laugh. Then the moment was gone and my trials began. First, he shaped himself into an adder or a snake and as he writhed in my arms, I held the Rune of Algiz to his breast and bid him shed his skin. Next, he shaped himself into a fire burning bold and as he blazed in my arms, I threw the holy water on him and bid him douse the flame. Then, he shaped himself into a wild, wood-black dog and as he snapped and snarled in my arms, I blew the blessed salt in his face and bid him cease his howling. _

_And last of all, he revealed to me his true and terrible form but I held him fast and feared him not, for the sake of my darling child. But by God it tried me sore, for the dragon _was_ the mountain and a hundred, nay, a thousand times greater than I'd thought him to be. His glistening brown scales were rough, like rasps, and the blood ran from where they scraped me. His gleaming white talons were sharp, like knives, and pierced me to the bone. His snapping red jaws were the gates of Hell, and he tried most hard to devour me. My charms did me no good for I could not reach them let alone turn them against the beast. All I could do was hold tight as he roared and writhed around me but cling to him I did, and I would not let him go though he shook me something fierce. _

_At last he stopped and I knew I'd won; I'd have my heart's desire. He shaped himself into a man once more and bid me make my wish._

"_I wish my daughter to be with me for all eternity," I gasped, barely able to speak for the pain I was in, and he seemed well-pleased at my words. Then he took hold of me and pulled me to him, and pressed his lips to mine. His ice-cold breath wound through my body and froze my pain, and for the length of that kiss I ceased to exist and became part of the great wyrm instead. Then he lifted his head and released me, and told me my wish would come true when I returned to Miles Cross Hall. I had done the thing, and my heart sang with joy._

_I looked down at my wounds and saw they had vanished, and I knew he had healed me when he held me in his embrace. As he turned back to his cave, I bid him wait and he looked at me once more. I had won my heart's desire and felt I should offer him something in return... to balance the scales. I removed the gold carcanet from my hair and took the Druid's crystal stone of power from my girdle and held them out to him, saying I knew full well how dragons loved treasure and telling him he might have mine._

_He started at that; indeed, he looked much surprised but he took the treasure all the same and turned back to his cave. 'Ere he entered its inky depths though, he stopped once more and said to me over his shoulder, "Do not come this way again, Elfraine Somerled." And then he was gone._

_And once he'd left, a strange wind blew up and I grew most drowsy. A heavy sleep fell upon me and when I awoke, I found myself returned to the forest of Carterhaugh. In my waking confusion, I did not see Blythe and was much saddened. I thought the dragon had eaten her whilst I slept but I soon spied her in the trees, grazing on the grass, and was right glad to see her. 'Twould have been a poor reward indeed for such sterling service as my brave mare gave me on that momentous journey had she been eaten by the terrible beast._

**... ...**

By the time he'd finished reading the passage Nuada once again had a tight hold on the book and was tapping his finger sharply on the page before him, his feelings in tumult. As he looked up and stared intently at Elfraine, he fixed upon his anger and outrage. She seemed absorbed in her sewing and didn't appear to notice his regard. He rose from the couch and walked over to her, the old Bible still open in his hands. By the time he reached her, he was certain she was deliberately ignoring him and that thought only stoked his rising temper. As he came to a halt in front of her, he snapped the book shut under her nose, making her jump in surprise. She reluctantly lifted her head to give him a look filled with embarrassment. _Good_! he thought fiercely as he put the book down on a low table next to her. At least she had the sense to realise she had cause for embarrassment... _great_ cause, from where he stood.

Elfraine's face fell as she beheld his expression. "I knew you'd hate me once you read that last part," she muttered glumly.

Her expression gave him pause and he showed rare restraint in taking some care over his next words. "I do not hate you," he replied, with ill-concealed irritation. "I... I do not know _what_ I feel."

"Then how do you know you don't hate me?" asked Elfraine, with unassailable logic... which found no favour with Nuada.

"I just _know_ that I don't! I am... _annoyed_ with you!" he bit out, as all care went out the window. "The disrespect you showed towards that dragon is... breathtaking, and I am lost for words at your... your _stupidity_!"

The colour rose in Elfraine's cheeks and she opened her mouth to defend herself but Nuada suddenly found he was not so lost for words as he'd thought. "You meet one of the great creatures of this world..." he started to say.

"Of the Otherworld," corrected Elfraine under her breath.

"Of _any_ world," continued Nuada, with a sharp look, "and you confront him with such _nonsense_ as only a human could devise..."

"As only a _witch_ could devise," she muttered, correcting him once more.

"What?" he snapped, his temper soaring at the interruption.

"I did nothing but what Allison said to do, and she was a _witch_," said Elfraine defensively. "Oh!" she exclaimed, as she remembered something else. "I will admit, offering the dragon the treasure was my own idea. I suppose you'll tell me next that that was the most stupid thing of all."

Nuada's eyes narrowed as he thought he detected the faintest trace of impertinence in her voice but he chose to ignore it. "As it happens, that was your one moment of good manners and therefore good sense in the whole sorry episode!" he admitted tersely before continuing to ring a peal over her head. "Otherwise, you order him around like a lackey and treat him with arrogant disdain – by the Gods, woman, you called him a _sly worm_! - and then you throw stagnant, disease-ridden water on him before finally blowing _salt_ in his face!"

Elfraine found she had no reply to make to that; it was all true and she hung her head in shame.

Nuada started to pace back and forth before her, his golden eyes aglitter with ire as he considered her bent head. "Tell me," he asked snidely. "What happened when you blew the salt in his face? What wondrous effect did that have? And don't tell me it caused him to _cease his howling_ because I can assure you it did nothing of the sort! At least, not in the way you doubtless thought it did."

Elfraine glanced up at him as she wondered whether or not he actually expected a reply.

"Well?" he prompted, answering her unspoken question in the affirmative.

"He, um... he, he," she stammered, clearly reluctant to answer him.

"Yes?" Nuada said nastily.

Miserable bloody elf, thought Elfraine to herself as she took exception to his tone. Recovering her nerve and stiffening her spine, she sat up straight in her chair and coolly met his gaze as she answered him. "I believe he sneezed," she drawled with more than a touch of insolence.

Nuada clenched his fists at his side. So, she was going on the attack, was she. "And did his _sneeze_ not tell you anything about the efficacy of your methods?" he enquired sarcastically, determined to force her retreat and wring an abject apology or two from her.

"_You_ are not telling me anything I _don't_ already know, _Your Highness_!" exclaimed Elfraine heatedly, immediately understanding his meaning. "It didn't take me long to realise I'd been foolish and I can only say that at the time, I did what I thought I had to. Indeed, it's a great shame I didn't then know any Elven princes to whom I could go for advice!" she added somewhat flippantly.

Nuada glared at her. Her admission took some of the heat out of his anger but for all she claimed to know she'd been foolish, he doubted she knew just _how_ preposterous her behaviour had been. He decided it would be his very great pleasure to set her right about that... later. "Very well then, Lady Wylde. I'll let the matter rest for now but we _will_ discuss it again, make no mistake," he told her ominously. "You certainly had the right of it when you called yourself naively stupid," he added, more to himself than to her.

Elfraine frowned at that; it was one thing to say it about yourself and quite another to have someone else throw it in your face, no matter how true it might be. "Oh, and I suppose in the course of four thousand years _you_ have never done anything of which you're now ashamed, or which you could rightly label _stupid_," she remarked with a touch of asperity.

Nuada opened his mouth to confirm that that was indeed the case but paused for just a second as the image of a towering, green elemental – a forest god and the last of its kind – flashed unbidden in his mind. His slight hesitation proved fatal.

"Ah ha!" exclaimed Elfraine, leaping on it before he could utter a word. "I thought as much! You are obviously not without fault yourself. Perhaps you might care to discuss that as well!"

Nuada scowled fiercely and fixed her with a hard look though he silently acknowledged her point.

The fight suddenly went out of her and Elfraine sighed as she misread his expression. "I am sorry to have lost your good opinion and I'm sorry too that you won't at least credit me with having the sense to learn from my mistakes," she said morosely. "But _what's done is done_, and I can't change it." Unless the fates be with me, she thought to herself.

Nuada stared down at her for a long moment as he struggled with his feelings. "You have not lost my good opinion... in the main, and I trust you _have_ learnt from your mistakes," he said at last. "But it is not only your naive... disrespect towards such a great creature which disturbs me," he admitted.

Reaching down, he drew her to her feet and took the embroidery frame from her hands. He put it on top of the old Bible on the table next to her then took hold of her by the shoulders and searched her face for... something... he didn't know - some sign perhaps of what had marked her that day and kept her from death. Because by rights, such a dragon as she described should have killed her on the spot no matter that she'd had its name and some very powerful charms in amongst the rest of the chaff she'd been given. The dragon would have been too great and too powerful a creature to be so bound by a mere human who, at the time, had had nothing of magic in her. She'd told him three days ago she thought the dragon had been toying with her and he knew now that it had. It had played along with every single one of her ridiculous notions and then it had let her leave... and what's more, leave in the belief she'd won her wish.

As his thoughts roiled about in his mind, Nuada's hands tightened unconsciously on Elfraine's shoulders. She winced in discomfort at the pressure and his eyes were drawn to where he had hold of her. As he eased his grip, it struck him anew just how small and delicately-made she was; to snap her in half would be but the work of a moment... except she'd only recover in less than half that time. He wondered what the dragon had made of her all those years ago - mortal then - as she'd had the audacity to beard it in its den. She would surely have been no more to it than an irritating piece of dust and yet it had... humoured her for some reason and spared her life. As Elfraine looked up hopefully at him, Nuada struggled to put his thoughts into words. "You... you must realise by now the witch was sending you to your death," he finally said, though his half-question expressed only a small part of what he wanted to say.

"Yes," Elfraine admitted with another sigh. "I worked that out not long after I got back to Miles Cross Hall."

She looked particularly downcast as she said that and Nuada knew it was because she was thinking of her failure to get her daughter back. It must have been a bitter and crushing disappointment after all she'd been through and after having her hopes raised so high, and he wondered again at the dragon's purpose in doing such a thing.

"Tell me what happened when you got back from the Otherworld," he said quietly, his anger and annoyance suddenly gone.

"Of-of course," agreed Elfraine hesitantly as he gently sat her down on the chair again.

He leaned back against the window sill to await the rest of her tale.

"Um, where exactly did you get to in your reading?" she asked a little nervously. She hoped he wasn't going to get annoyed all over again.

"You had just arrived back in the forest of Carterhaugh," he replied.

She started to breathe a sigh of relief.

"And made the happy discovery that the... terrible beast had _not_ eaten your horse," he added, with a narrow, meaningful look.

"Ah yes," said Elfraine, shifting uncomfortably on her seat. She glanced away, unable to meet his eyes, and didn't see the faint look of amusement, and something else, that flitted across his face as she began the last part of her tale.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

'My stars shine darkly over me' – Shakespeare, _Twelfth Night_, Act 2, Scene 1.

'Mortal coil' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act 3, Scene 1.  
>('For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this<em> mortal coil, <em>Must give us pause')

Moon of Ice: Celtic name for the full moon in February (February 13th 1615).

Storm Moon: old English name for the full moon in February.

Historically, marital or spousal rape has been widely condoned or ignored at law or even held to be an impossibility. See, for example, Sir Matthew Hale's legal treatise _History of the Pleas of the Crown_ (1736) where he argued that such a rape could not be recognised because of the nature of the marriage contract, i.e., the wife "hath given up herself in this kind unto her husband, which she cannot retract." It was only during the course of the 20th century that the concept gained currency and the crime was entered into the statute books of various countries around the world. See also Hufton, O, _The Prospect Before Her: A History of Women in Western Europe, Volume One 1500 – 1800_, (London, HarperCollins, 1995) and Laurence, A, _Women in England 1500 – 1760, A Social History_ (London, Phoenix, 1996) for historical context.

Allison Gross: see Child's Ballad #35. She was known as the ugliest witch in the North Country.

Moon of Winds: Celtic name for the full moon in March (March 15th, 1615).

'Hell is empty and all the devils are here' – Shakespeare, _The Tempest_, Act 1, Scene 2.

Beltaine: ancient Gaelic festival marking the beginning of summer and associated with fertility, purification and transition. As with its opposite festival, Samhain, bonfires were lit and it was a time when the Otherworld was particularly close at hand.

'In the meadows the birds on the spray proclaim the arrival of spring': a slight reworking of a line from Steeleye Span's song 'Lovely on the Water' (Roud's Ballad #1539).

All Souls' Day: November 2nd.

''Twas strange, 'twas passing strange' (_exceedingly or extremely strange_) – Shakespeare, _Othello_, Act 1, Scene 3.

Wyrm: (Old English, poetic) dragon.

'Growing Moon': Celtic name for the full moon in April (April 13th, 1615).

April 19th, 1615 - Resurrection Day: Easter Sunday.

'Governors of Bridewell': superintendants of Bethlem Royal Hospital (Bedlam), London (see Chapter 23).

Rune of Algiz: Z-rune of the Elder Futhark runic alphabet, the oldest form of runic alphabet. The Elder Futhark was used by Germanic tribes then simplified and used by the Scandinavians and then Anglo-Saxons. The Rune of Algiz means protection, a shield or a connection with divine forces. Reversed, it means hidden danger or destruction by divine forces.

Carcanet: (archaic) a jewelled necklace, collar or headband.

Elfraine's journey and encounter with the dragon is inspired by Steeleye Span's songs 'Alison Gross' (Child's Ballad #35), 'Thomas the Rhymer' (Child's Ballad #37), and 'Tam Lin' (Child's Ballad #39). I've used a lot of the imagery from these songs. (NB: Carterhaugh is a forest in Scotland and is where Janet met Tam Lin. Miles Cross, a crossroads, is where she waited to win him back from the Queen of Faeries.)

'Cast the compass round': also called circle casting. A Wiccan practice which creates a meeting place between worlds, some say in order to access the Tree of Life (a concept found in many ancient civilisations, including that of the Celts), and so communicate both with deities in the upperworld of the Gods and spirits in the underworld of the dead. The term is also used in Steeleye Span's song, 'Tam Lin' (Child's Ballad #39).

Girdle: used in the medieval sense of a belt.

Samples of holy water have been shown to contain a "wide range of bacterial species," some of which could cause infection in humans. J.C. Rees and K.D. Allen, 1996 "Holy water-a risk factor for hospital-acquired infection". _Journal of Hospital Infection_ 32(1), pages 51-55.

'What's done is done' – Shakespeare, _Macbeth_, Act 3, Scene 2.


	34. Chapter 33

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**A/N: Another M-rated chapter. **

**Chapter 33**

"It was a grey morning when I awoke in the forest. At first, I didn't know where I was but I soon recognised the lie of the land and realised I was back in Carterhaugh," Elfraine explained. "I... I eventually saw Blythe, grazing amongst the trees," she said hesitantly, risking a look at Nuada. She was reassured to see he wasn't frowning. "I, um, I had thought Fortune might be somewhere about so I looked for her but couldn't find her. That... upset me until I recalled the dragon had said my wish would be granted when I returned to Miles Cross Hall. So I made haste and gathered up my things, and turned Blythe's head towards home... though as it turns out I found only greater disappointment awaiting me there."

She paused for a moment, as desolate as ever that the expected happy reunion with her daughter had never eventuated. "Anyway, that's when I found those two," she said, nodding in the direction of the sleeping dragons as she tried to shake off the feeling. "I believe I told you something of that a few days ago when you first visited with me."

"You did," affirmed Nuada, looking down at her with some concern. He'd noticed the catch in her voice as she spoke of her disappointment, and chose his next words with care as he sought to distract her from her sad thoughts. "However as I've found with other of your... explanations, I'm sure there's far more to the tale than your first account suggests."

His ploy worked well enough; Elfraine was happy to be distracted. She thought she heard a subtle rebuke in his words and gave him a speaking look as she replied to the charge. "I suppose you have me there," she admitted. "But indeed, I subscribe to Polonius's belief that brevity is the soul of wit, though unlike that character, I hope I at least _occasionally_ manage to be brief and to the point."

"You may rest easy on that score, my Lady," Nuada assured her dryly. "I have found you to be exceptionally brief and to the point on _numerous_ occasions, and whatever else might be said of you, no one could accuse you of being long-winded or tedious."

Elfraine was about to scowl at his backhanded compliment when the full import of his words struck her, and her eyes widened in surprise instead. "You are familiar with the work of Mr Shakespeare?" she asked, puzzled; she would never have imagined that Nuada had even heard of the _human_ playwright let alone that he'd be familiar with anything good Will had written. However there was no denying it; the Elven prince had captured the essentials of the character of Polonius in a nutshell, and Elfraine was intrigued.

Nuada read her look of surprise aright. "Yes, yes," he said, a little impatiently. "I've heard of your feted playwright... and have a passing knowledge of _some_ of his works – the tragedies mainly," he admitted grudgingly.

Elfraine clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, you must tell me which ones, and more importantly, what you made of them!" she exclaimed. "And also how you stumbled across his works, for I can't imagine you sought them out willingly, and whether you ever saw any of his plays staged at the Globe – or indeed, anywhere else - and..."

"No!" Nuada bit out tersely, shooting her down mid-flight. "I will tell you nothing of the sort," he added with grim finality as he silently cursed his slip; it was just his luck the woman was too sharp not to have noticed it.

Elfraine's face fell and he suddenly felt as if he'd kicked a kitten. "At least, not now," he added, softening his initial refusal. "Perhaps later... when we have more time."

In truth, he was prevaricating; he was still firm in his determination _not_ to discuss _William Shakespeare_ with her, and could just imagine her crowing if she ever discovered his secret... that he found something of merit in the works of the human playwright. Though he himself knew it was only because the man's plays elegantly and irrefutably affirmed everything he'd ever learnt to the discredit of humankind, he had the nasty feeling his explanation wouldn't wash with Elfraine. She'd likely only call it an _excuse_ for a guilty pleasure, or some other such far-fetched thing, instead.

"Oh yes, by all means, add that to your list of matters to discuss later," she said now, recovering her spirits. "Your list grows apace, does it not," she added with a mischievous look.

Nuada mouth twisted in a reluctant half-smile at that but he otherwise ignored her impertinent comment. "Please, continue with your tale," he said instead.

"Very well then, though I'm afraid you'll find in this instance there really _isn't_ much more to tell," she warned him.

"I'll be the judge of that," he told her firmly.

Elfraine inclined her head in acknowledgement before continuing. "We hadn't gone far when Blythe suddenly stopped. No matter how I urged her, she refused to go any further. It was a very gloomy part of the path; the trees had closed in around us and it was a grey and misty morning. I thought perhaps she'd taken a maggot into her head over what might be lurking in the eerie brume, and was about at my wit's ends when I heard a chirping, clicking noise from amongst the trees to one side of me. To say I was surprised is an understatement, for it was very similar to the strange language the dragon had used except that I couldn't understand it."

"Likely because they were only very young," Nuada told her.

"Yes, I suppose it was like baby talk," said Elfraine. "Anyway, Blythe whinnied and pawed at the ground and tried to push her way through the trees towards the sound. I reined her in and dismounted, and when she saw me head in the direction the noise was coming from, she quietened down. I soon came to a great oak tree, larger than the rest, and at its base I saw the two young hatchlings. They were each about the size of a young cat."

"They were only new-borns," murmured Nuada with a frown. "What on earth were they doing alone in a forest?" he wondered aloud.

"I'll come to that shortly," Elfraine assured him.

"They _were_ alone, weren't they?" he queried sharply as he fixed Elfraine with a narrow look. "I recall you saying something of the sort when you first told me how you'd found them."

"Yes, they were quite alone," she quickly affirmed, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I looked around for any sign of a parent but found not a hint of another dragon. It was clear I'd have to take them with me or they'd starve to death." She paused for a moment before adding, a little touchily, "I suppose you'll say I had no business interfering, and should have left them where they were."

"Not at all," Nuada assured her, his dark lips quirking slightly at her defensive attitude. "If there were no parents around and they were in danger of starving, then you were right in your actions."

"Well, that makes a change," she muttered, giving voice to what he'd gallantly thought to leave unsaid.

"And proves, I suppose, that there may be hope for you yet," he remarked dryly, suddenly unable to resist the urge to provoke her.

Elfraine flashed him a look – part indignation, part surprise – before she realised he was teasing, upon which she broke into a delighted smile and deliberately twisted an entirely different meaning out of his words, her sparkling eyes just daring him to contradict her. "You are jesting with me, Sir, which means, _I _suppose, that you really think I am perfect as I am."

Nuada suppressed a snort of laughter at that. "Indeed, I find you to be as perfect as I'm sure _you_ can possibly be, my Lady," he replied, adroitly sidestepping her trap.

"You are too kind, Sir," Elfraine demurred as she once again took his words in her favour.

"I don't think you can accuse me of being _kind_," he said pointedly. "In fact, I doubt I've ever had such a thing said of me before."

"Then there truly is a first time for everything... even that!" she exclaimed with wide-eyed disingenuity. "Why, between your new-found kindness and my long-standing perfection, I daresay we'd be capable of such beneficence as the world has never seen."

"Nor would ever _want_ to see," Nuada muttered sardonically, at which Elfraine gave him such a dazzling smile of approval that he caught his breath.

"Ah well, then that would be the world's loss," she said mournfully, though her eyes still sparkled with mischievous amusement.

Nuada was suddenly enchanted and couldn't help himself; he leaned forward and, catching her hand, drew her to her feet. Wrapping an arm around her waist as she steadied herself against his chest, he pulled her close and lifted her chin with his other hand to look down into her eyes. "You must have been a bright star in your king's court... a light and joyous presence," he murmured thoughtfully. He was surprised by a sudden stab of envy for that long-dead human king.

His unexpected compliment took Elfraine by surprise but she recovered her composure quickly enough. "Oh! What a lovely thing to say," she exclaimed softly, smiling up at him in blushing delight. "I did indeed have my shining moments - in the courts of both Elizabeth _and_ James - though there were other moments when my star was cast entirely into the shade, and _when in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone _bewept_ my outcast state_," she admitted candidly.

"Hmmm, thanks to the treasonous stupidity, was it not, of your first husband, and the spendthrift ways of your second one," remarked Nuada, remembering what she'd told him last night of her first two marriages.

"Just so," agreed Elfraine. "But honesty compels me to confess, there _were_ also several times when it was all down to my own fault. You see - and I know you'll find this hard to believe - I was not _always_ the perfect creature who stands before you now, and I could, on occasion, be a little _too_ sharp with my tongue," she informed him with a teasing smile, which he couldn't help but return.

As he looked down into her laughing brown eyes, Nuada vowed to himself that one day, no matter how distant that day might be, he would raise his own fallen court from the ashes and make it a place once again filled with light and joy. And he suddenly realised, to his surprise, that he could have no better example before him than Elfraine Somerled; somehow, her brightness always seemed to shine through, no matter what.

A wave of hunger swept through Nuada as he felt an overwhelming need to taste the light and joy of her now, and he pulled her tightly against him, his chest, belly and thighs touching hers. He bent his head to take her mouth in a deep kiss, and as he pressed his warm, firm lips to hers, she slipped into the vee of his legs. The feel of her soft, luscious curves against the hard planes of his body set a match to his desire and as the blood pooled in his loins, he slid his hands down to cup her shapely derrière and anchor her firmly in place against his growing erection.

Elfraine moaned at the delicious sensation of his hard body burning into her everywhere they touched and she wound her arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal ardour and delighting in the taste of him. And then he shifted slightly, slipping his leg between hers to press up against the heat of her sex, and an urgent, aching hunger knifed through her as she straddled his thigh. Unable to help herself, she started to move sensuously against his leg, and Nuada instinctively caught her rhythm, his hips rocking against hers as his hard flesh blindly sought relief from the torment of not being buried deep inside her. Somehow, through the waves of lust riding him, the vague thought arose that they should stop before things went too far. But it was too late.

"Oh, Nuada. I want you," Elfraine breathed against his lips, her voice threaded with an urgent, feminine need that utterly captivated him. As the blood pounded in his veins, all he could think of was to give her everything she wanted, and more.

He broke off their kiss and grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, quickly pulling it up over her head and throwing it aside. Her bra was next, and as she stood in the circle of his arms, Nuada's eyes turned to molten gold at the sight of her full, firm breasts. The exotic enticement of her nipples, sitting atop dusky pink aureoles and surrounded by creamy white mounds of flesh was more than he could resist. He bent her back over his arm and half-straddled her as he leaned down and took one ripe bud in his mouth and teased it with his tongue. The silky, white-gold fall of his hair gently brushed against her bare skin and sent shivers of exquisite sensation through Elfraine, and when Nuada reached over with his free hand to firmly cup her other breast, she arched up into his touch and sighed with delight as she clutched his broad shoulders.

He lifted his head and gave her a wolfish smile before he straightened up and took hold of her hands, placing them on the fastenings of his shirt in a clear invitation to remove it. As he rested his forearms on her shoulders and threaded his hands in her hair, Elfraine quickly went to work and soon had the buttons undone. She gave a soft hum of approval as she pushed his shirt back to reveal the sculpted ridges of his torso and arms to her hungry gaze.

She reached her hand up and traced the contours of his chest with her fingers, then leaned in and followed their path with her mouth, dropping a trail of light kisses along his warm, pale skin. Then as her hands kneaded his firm flesh, she kissed one of his nipples, lightly grazing the jutting nub with her teeth and laving it with her tongue. Nuada gasped in pleasure at the feeling of her hot, moist mouth moving on his skin and his hands tightened reflexively on her shoulders. Grasping his belt and slowly circling her hips against his, Elfraine turned her attention to the other side and continued to stoke the fires of his passion until he burned with a fierce urgency. She lifted her head and reached up to kiss him, and he angled his head to give her better access to his mouth.

Driven now by a primal need for satisfaction, Nuada swiftly undid her jeans as she kissed him, and slid them down over her hips and legs, his hands caressing her warm, bare skin, and sending shivers of delight coursing through her body. Elfraine broke off their kiss and stepped out of her jeans and panties as he pulled off his boots. When he reached for the buckle of his belt, she covered his hands with hers and stopped him.

"Let me," she offered, her voice husky with desire.

"Be quick, mhuirnín," Nuada groaned as he willingly gave way to her.

Elfraine swiftly complied, her nimble fingers unbuckling his belt and loosening the ties at the waistband of his pants to finally free him from the confines of his clothing. His lips quickly found hers again, and Nuada groaned in pleasure against her mouth as she wrapped one hand around the thick, hard warmth of his erection and with her other hand, cupped the twin sacs that hung below, stroking and fondling him with a sure, firm touch.

He took her head and fisted his hands into her silky hair as he deepened their kiss and demanded entrance to her mouth. Elfraine opened up to him with a purr of delight, and he reached one hand down to the soft curls at the apex of her thighs, smiling against her lips in satisfaction when he found her already melting for him. Slipping two fingers up inside her snug passage, he started to gently circle his thumb against the firm nub of flesh at the head of her sex, and as his fingers started to mimic the thrust of his tongue in her mouth, he drove Elfraine almost mindless with the need for completion.

She clenched tightly around his fingers and Nuada lifted his head to look at her. As he greedily devoured the sight of her passion-glazed eyes, swollen lips and flushed skin, he suddenly realised there was no more time for either of them. Sharp, delicious pulses of insistent sensation tugged low in his belly as Elfraine's delightful hands continued to pleasure him, and he knew he was nearly at the point of no return... his blood was on fire and he needed to be inside her. Drawing on his last reserves of willpower, he pulled away from her and, grasping her by the hips, swiftly lifted her up to straddle his waist. Elfraine quickly wrapped her legs around his lean hips and held onto him tightly.

"I need you... now," he growled hoarsely as his fingers dug into the firm flesh of her derrière and he slowly lowered her down onto his thrusting erection. With a half-turn, he leaned her up against the side-wall of the window recess and flexed his hips as he drove all the way home. At last he was where he'd wanted to be for the better part of the afternoon – seated deep inside her, his hard, aching flesh surrounded by the tight, soothing heat of her body, and with paradise only a few delectable thrusts away – and he groaned in short-lived relief. As he began to move his hips, the tension coiled unbearably once more and his body cried out urgently for the ultimate relief.

"Oh yes, Nuada," Elfraine gasped, savouring the feel of him as he filled and stretched her. Crushing her aching breasts to the hard, muscled expanse of his chest, she took his head in her hands and kissed him with fierce urgency as he moved inside her. She'd also wanted this all afternoon and she quickly found her release. A dozen or so long, hard strokes of his body took her to the edge and then with a sure, swift thrust, he pushed her over. She arched back against the wall and let out a rapturous cry of completion as piercing waves of pleasure tore through her, and Nuada was briefly transfixed by the sight of her as she shimmered with ecstasy. With her inner muscles still clenching tightly around him, he gave one last, deep thrust and followed her over the edge, finding his own fierce release as he poured himself into her in long, hot bursts of almost unimaginably intense and satisfying pleasure.

Elfraine collapsed against him, her head falling into the crook of his neck and as he leaned back against the window sill behind him, Nuada held onto her tightly. They stayed like that for some minutes, enjoying the feel of each other as their breathing returned to normal and their racing hearts slowed down. Eventually Elfraine raised her head and gave Nuada a luminous smile.

He lowered his mouth to hers and was about to kiss her, when she let out a squawk of dismay and buried her face in his neck again. Her shoulders started to shake and she made strange, muffled noises.

"Lady, what is wrong?" asked Nuada, immediately all concern.

She lifted her head slightly and he saw she was laughing, upon which he immediately frowned.

Elfraine quickly enlightened him. "You have an audience down below, _Your Highness_," she informed him with a touch of glee as she nodded in the direction of the large window against which he was leaning. As he'd bent his head to kiss her, she'd spied two women and a man standing in the late afternoon sun on the footpath across from her apartment. They were looking up at the window - a window which afforded the splendid rear view of one very naked Elven prince – with undisguised interest. "I wonder how long they've been standing there," she added, for good measure.

Nuada started to turn his head but Elfraine grabbed hold of his hair and stopped him.

"No! Don't look!" she yelped. "They might see _me_ if you do that. It's a good thing you're so big and have so much hair. You make an excellent shield... I think all they can make out of me are my legs. If I were to pass them on the street tomorrow, I'd still be a stranger to them." She paused for a moment before adding, unwisely, "You, on the other hand... well, let's just say I consider this appropriate payback for that incident at the BPRD the other day when you made yourself invisible and so unchivalrously skulked off, leaving me to deal with our, or rather my, audience all on my own."

Nuada had begun frowning at the start of her little speech but by the time she got to the end he had a wicked gleam in his eyes, and Elfraine suddenly realised her mistake. "Don't you dare!" she shrieked as he smirked at her.

"What a good idea, _thank you_, my Lady," Nuada purred as he cloaked himself in a glamour and disappeared before her very eyes. Elfraine tried to climb off him, thinking to get away from the window, but his strong arms tightened around her and held her firmly in place, his body still intimately joined to hers, though his erection was rapidly subsiding now.

"Oh, God's Blood," she moaned in mortification, as she suddenly had a very clear view of the interested on-lookers. "What they can see of me if you are invisible and I am not!" She instinctively tried to close her legs but with Nuada still standing fast between them, she couldn't.

"It's a bit late for that now, Lady Wylde," he said smugly.

Elfraine scowled. She couldn't see his expression but from the sound of his voice, she had no doubt he was still smirking.

As he stared down at her fiery red face, Nuada took pity on her and decided to put her out of her misery. After all, she'd just pleased him very well indeed and he was in an exceptionally good mood with her. "Don't frown, Lady. You are invisible too," he informed her.

"I am?" asked Elfraine, cheering up somewhat.

"You are," he affirmed as he leaned down and gave her the kiss he'd been going to before she'd spied their unexpected audience. He lowered her to the floor and reluctantly lifted his head. "No one saw any part of your lovely self; I made sure of it," he told her as he leaned down and picked up his clothes then stepped away to put them on.

Elfraine watched in fascination as first his pants and then his shirt disappeared. "What just happened to your clothes?" she asked.

Nuada gave a small snort of amusement as he answered her. "There's not much point in being invisible if my clothing can still be seen. Whatever is about my person also becomes invisible... clothing, weapons..."

"Women," she quickly finished for him, sending an arch look in the direction of his voice.

Nuada dropped his glamour as he puzzled briefly over that, and then her meaning struck him. He broke into an appreciative grin and threw his head back as he burst out laughing.

Elfraine felt a flare of happiness at the sight and sound of his unguarded amusement, and couldn't help but smile with him. She'd only known him for just over a week but it was obvious that there hadn't been much laughter in his life for a long time, and she liked that she could bring some light-heartedness to it, even if only for a moment.

"Yes, I suppose women too, although in this instance your invisibility was not dependent on your... ah, _attachment_ to me," he told her, still smiling broadly. "I covered you in a glamour of your own."

"Oh! You can do that, can you?" she asked in surprise.

"Obviously," he replied, dryly.

"So, I'm still invisible then," essayed Elfraine somewhat nervously as she suddenly remembered the window beside her.

"Yes," Nuada replied. "Now, if you'll step away from there, I'll remove the glamour from you."

"You can still see me?" she asked, obviously puzzled.

"Of course," he affirmed. "I was the one who made you invisible, after all."

"And yet I couldn't see you when you were invisible," she observed, though it was more a question than a statement.

"Because I didn't want you to," he answered with a sly look.

"So, you could have spared me the embarrassment all along," muttered Elfraine, trying to look cross and failing miserably as she bent down to pick up her own clothes.

Nuada caught her hand and stopped her. "Let me play lady's maid," he offered. "To make up for whatever _imagined_ discomfort I caused you... no matter how well-deserved it might have been," he murmured, teasing her once more.

"Once again, you are too kind, Sir," she told him graciously. Trying to look and sound as ladylike as possible, given that she was standing in front of him stark naked, Elfraine continued on. "However, if you feel you have something to make up for then by all means, play my maid if you must."

Giving her a knowing look, Nuada picked up a box of tissues from the low table by the window and, kneeling in front of her on one knee, set about wiping the mingled traces of their lovemaking off her thighs.

Elfraine hadn't realised what he meant to do and she gave a small squeak of embarrassment. "I can do that," she said quickly as she tried to grab the tissues off him.

He easily caught her wrists in one hand and held her still. "I insist," he told her as his eyes travelled slowly up the length of her body and came to rest on her face. "It will be my pleasure."

Elfraine caught her breath at the sensual look on his face and her nipples tightened again under his smouldering gaze. "Marry, but you wouldn't think you'd just swived me senseless, Nuada," she murmured breathlessly. "For I swear, I want you all over again when you look at me like that."

A fierce surge of masculine pride coursed through him at her words and he was sorely tempted to oblige her again but he was only all too aware that they didn't have the luxury of time. Besides which, she was far smaller and more delicate than he was, and she must surely be in need of some respite from their lovemaking by now. "As appealing as that idea is, mhuirnín, and quite apart from anything else, I think you need some time to recover from our sport this day," he said, a clear note of regret threading his husky voice. As he spoke, he quickly finished cleaning her up and then stood.

A wicked gleam suddenly lit Elfraine's eyes at his words. Lifting her head, she fixed him with a look of cool hauteur. "You forget who and what I am, Sir," she informed him imperiously.

Nuada recognised his own words to her from earlier in the afternoon, and arched a questioning brow at her.

"Might I remind you of my amazing powers of recovery," she prompted.

He suddenly took her meaning, and looked most intrigued as his mind went to work on the possibilities. "I will be sure to put those amazing powers to the test later, my Lady," he informed her with a slow smile.

"And I'll be sure to hold you to that," she replied, smiling back at him.

"For now though, I need to make sense of what you've told me about that piece of filth who has my sister and work out how to get her back," he said, quickly becoming serious again.

He helped Elfraine dress and then led her over towards the balcony, where the late afternoon light streamed in through the doors. Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. "Finish telling me about those two," he said, with a nod in the direction of the sleeping dragons, "and whatever else you can about Gretheved, and then I will decide how to act."

Elfraine heard the worry in his voice and squeezed his arm comfortingly. "It won't take long," she promised him. "There isn't a lot more to tell." And with that, she began the final part of her tale.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Blythe: (Middle English name) carefree, joyous. Pronounced 'bleeth'.

'Brevity is the soul of wit' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act 2, Scene 2. (Said by the character Polonius, who is anything but.)

The Globe Theatre: built in 1599 by the Lord Chamberlain's Men (Shakespeare's playing company)

Brume: fog or mist.

Queen Elizabeth I: Queen of England and Ireland, reigned 1558 – 1603.

James I (James VI of Scotland, 1567 - 1625): King of England and Ireland, reigned 1603 (Union of the Scottish and English crowns) – 1625. (He became King of Scotland when just thirteen months of age on the abdication of his mother, Mary, Queen of Scots, in his favour.)

'When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state' – Shakespeare, _Sonnet 29_.

Mhuirnín: (Gaelic) sweetheart, darling.

Marry: By the Virgin Mary – Elizabethan exclamation of surprise, similar to 'indeed'.

Swive: (Middle English, archaic) copulate. Earliest extant use in English is found in Geoffrey Chaucer's _Canterbury Tales_, late 14th c., (_The Miller's Tale_ – "Thus swived was this carpenter's wife.")


	35. Chapter 34

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**A/N: Warning for descriptions of violence. **

.

**Chapter 34**

Elfraine looked out on the sleeping dragons as she thought about the day she'd found them. "As I was saying, they were alone and starving, and I was worried they might die even before I got them back to Miles Cross... not that I believed they'd be any better off there. I had no idea what they ate or how to look after them, and I was fairly certain no one else on the estate would know either. It was a matter of trial and error in those early days."

"Dragons are hardy creatures," Nuada told her. "Even though they are at their most vulnerable when so young, they are still resilient in the face of all but the most serious mishaps."

"Which is just as well, for there were several times when I feared I'd done them more harm than good," Elfraine admitted wryly. "Anyway, I inspected them closely and was relieved to find they each had a fine, sharp set of teeth. I hoped that meant they might eat whatever bugs and small creatures I could find, so I set about looking for something to feed them. There were a few rotten tree trunks lying on the edge of a small pond nearby, and I was able to catch some of the frogs... and spiders," - she shuddered - "that had made their homes there, as well as gather up a good number of slugs. Though the hatchlings were very weak, they managed to eat everything I found, which reassured me somewhat. Once they'd eaten, I fashioned a sling for them out of my green mantle. I attached it to my saddle, and we continued on to Miles Cross."

"Did you think on what you would do when you got there?" asked Nuada, with a slight edge to his voice. "Most humans would have killed them on sight. I can't imagine the inhabitants of your house would have been any different."

"Much as I hate to admit it, you're right," agreed Elfraine, with a sigh. "I hadn't gone very many miles when that exact same thought occurred to me, along with several other troubling considerations. Quite apart from my tenants, I was determined Gretheved and his people would not find out about the dragons. I couldn't bear to think what he might do to them if he knew of their existence. And thinking on my difficulties there, I suddenly perceived the problems I'd undoubtedly face when I had Fortune back, the main one being how to explain her return to life. I knew _it must follow, as the night the day_, that both she and I would be burnt at the stake, for what else would anyone think us but witches. Even the truth would not save us... in fact, it would probably only have earned _me_ a hotter fire than otherwise, and I don't think the executioner would have granted us the mercy of strangulation before the flames took hold."

"That is barbaric," muttered Nuada, as unimpressed as ever with the ways of humans.

"Yes," Elfraine acknowledged. "They were cruel times."

Nuada arched his brow and looked down at Elfraine in disbelief but with her back to him, she couldn't see his expression. "The present ones are hardly any better!" he declared harshly.

She quickly realised the truth of what he said, and turned her head to give him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I suppose for your kind, they are not," she acceded. "I... I wish it were otherwise, Nuada. Indeed, for many humans the present is no better and to our shame, the fault for much of what is and has ever been wrong in this world can be laid squarely at our feet."

"Because of the greed which has burned a hole in your hearts," he said sharply, his every word spiked with bitter animosity. "You will never have enough and in your insatiable quest for more, you have made Gods of yourselves and laid waste to this earth. And proud, empty, hollow things that you are, you will not stop until you have consumed yourselves and everything other living thing out of existence." As he spoke, his golden eyes burned with all the fierce loathing he felt for humankind, and a sneering look twisted his hard, handsome features.

Elfraine was taken aback by his vehemence and looked away. Earlier in the day she'd resolved not to be troubled by his hatred for humans, reasoning that there was nothing she could do about it and knowing their time together was but a fleeting ripple in the tide. Now, however, she found the bare face of his enmity profoundly disturbing. When she and Nuala had talked in the BPRD armoury, she'd told the princess she couldn't care less for the fate of humanity, the corollary of which was, Elfraine supposed, that she also couldn't care less for what anyone thought of humans. To her surprise, she discovered she did in fact care about what Nuada made of her kind. While she knew he didn't hate _her_, she didn't like to imagine he thought any the less of her for the immutable fact of being human and in that, she suddenly realised she couldn't stand apart from the rest of her race... and nor did she want to.

In four hundred years she'd seen the worst of mankind's savage cruelty, callous indifference and selfish apathy, and Elfraine knew full well there was no atrocity or neglect that humans weren't capable of. The patina of the ages might cloak such monstrous acts and pitiless disregard in unique and novel guises but at heart they were all the same: dark manifestations, seemingly without end, of the human impulse to destroy even as it sought to create. And in such unremitting barbarity, she realised she saw her own kind as Nuada must see them.

But it struck her now that she'd also witnessed the human spirit at its shining best, clearly evident in the creative endeavours of the human enterprise, and sometimes writ large in the annals of history. More often than not though, she'd seen it in the small, selfless acts of occasional kindness performed by people in their daily lives, and in the quiet courage displayed by so many in desperate circumstances: anonymous acts and displays soon obliterated by the march of time but precious things nonetheless, which had, for a brief moment, shone amidst the surrounding dross and which went a long way towards redeeming the human race, if never entirely saving it from the ravages of its darker impulses. And in such fleeting moments, she saw her own kind as she knew Nuada would never see them.

Looking back up at him, she spoke carefully. "I agree with much of what you say about the failings of my kind, Nuada, and until a few days ago I'd have said you could consign the entire human race to the Devil for all I cared. But I don't agree with you entirely, and I would no longer be so quick to dismiss us out of hand." Elfraine felt him tense behind her as he anticipated the argument, and she hastened on. "I know we haven't the time for that particular debate now, and I doubt we ever will," she added, with a touch of sadness. "I just want to say that if you change your mind about spending time with me afterwards, you have only to say so. I'd rather the disappointment than think you might regret anything... if you don't already."

Her words surprised Nuada and distracted him from his dark thoughts. "No!" he said, as his arms tightened almost painfully around her. "I will _not_ release you from our agreement, no matter our differences!" He leaned down and gave her a swift, hard kiss, impressing his determination upon her.

"I'm glad of that," Elfraine murmured with a small smile as he lifted his head. She raised her hand up over her shoulder and lightly touched his cheek. "When we were in the BPRD armoury, your sister told me that our peoples had once lived together in peace," she remarked thoughtfully. "Do you remember such times?"

Nuada stared down at her for a long moment, reluctant to answer and silently cursing his ever-helpful sister. Athair had always refused to give them anything but the most rudimentary account of those bygone days and as a result, it was the one part of their history Nuada had difficulty reconciling with everything he'd ever learnt to hate about the human race. "That epoch had all but ended when Nuala and I were born," he replied at last. "There were still some of your kind who lived in harmony with my people and with the earth, and they tried to contain the worst excesses of other mortals but by the time I persuaded our father to use the Golden Army, there were scarcely any such humans left at all, and man was in open and almost constant warfare with the Fae."

"Then it's to the detriment of us all that there weren't greater numbers of those humans," Elfraine mused soberly. "Perhaps things could have been different."

"Don't waste your time dwelling on what might have been," Nuada advised her sharply. "I discovered the futility of such dreams long before you were ever born. The relentless struggle is all there is, and _it_ will only end when one side has been wiped from the face of this earth..."

"What an awful thought," said Elfraine before she could stop herself; she was taken aback by his fatalistic thinking though she supposed she shouldn't be. His words to her now only echoed those he'd used when they first met - when he'd talked of removing the blot of _her_ filthy existence from the face of the earth - and they told her nothing his sister hadn't already told her the night the two women were trapped in the BPRD armoury. But it was the underlying abandonment of hope, as much as anything else, which gave her pause and she was saddened to think he felt it was the only choice left to him, though honesty compelled her to admit, to herself at least, that he was in all likelihood right. She could see the good in her own kind but it was all too often eclipsed by the sheer weight of cruelty, indifference, and apathy which also marked the human condition.

"You are no doubt concerned for the fate of _your_ kind," observed Nuada cynically.

"Yes... strangely enough, I am," admitted Elfraine slowly, "though it hardly seems we deserve _any_ concern." She turned in his arms to face him before continuing. "But more than that, I care about what happens to _you_. I don't like to think of you being in such desperate straits and I worry about you." Then she reached up and gave him an impulsive hug.

Nuada stiffened in surprise, hardly knowing how to take her words and gesture at first. It had been a long time since anyone had told him they cared about _his_ fate, and he felt rather as he had earlier in the day when they'd said their goodbyes, a bit prematurely as it turned out. He'd been fairly overwhelmed by her generous wishes for him then, and now the bleak, cold, barrenness which marked more years of his life than he cared to think about was abruptly thrown into sharp relief. He was suddenly forced to admit that though he'd spent nearly his whole life in the service of his people - always his people - the path he walked was more often than not a hard and lonely one, with precious little of real warmth or comfort along the way despite the common bond of the light of their magic.

His family had become strangers to him long before the bitter divide in their beliefs forced him to raise his sword against his father and, in turn, forced his sister to take her own life and his with it. And as he'd told Elfraine last night, he'd only ever considered marriage twice in his life but each time his hopes had come to nothing. His fight for his people had cost him both women; he'd lost one to another man and one to death, and with each loss his world had become colder and emptier. Furthermore, of those he'd ever called 'friend', too many had given their lives - or had their lives taken from them – in the fight for the common cause, and those losses too, had left his world a poorer place.

Of course, it had always been easy enough to find someone willing to share his bed but he'd never deluded himself that any of those transient partners cared any more for him beyond the immediate moment than he did for them, except insofar as they were part of the Fae and as such, he would always fight for them. Certainly, none had ever _hugged_ him and told him they worried for him, and nor had he ever expected them to. So he was caught off guard when Elfraine, his _human_ lover, did just that and suddenly, he discovered he wanted every bit of the warmth and comfort she offered him now. He held onto her tightly as he returned her embrace and buried his face in her soft hair, inhaling the light, warm scent of her and not wanting the moment to end.

Having given him a hug, Elfraine pulled back a little only to be brought up short by the look of hunger in Nuada's eyes. They were lovers for the moment, and had it been simple desire it wouldn't have troubled her. But his gaze bespoke a different sort of need altogether and it called to her, heart and soul. All of a sudden, she felt unsettled and self-conscious about her unguarded words and embrace, and to cover her unease she said the first thing that came to mind. "Well, you-you're certainly correct on one point," she hurried on, as she laid her hands on his chest. "There's nothing to be gained by thinking on the past in the vain hope of changing it. We can only try to fix it by the actions we take in the here and now."

Nuada was too shaken by his discovery of just how much her concern meant to him to pursue the twinge of unease he felt at her words, and he gratefully grasped at the opportunity to turn their attention back to their more immediate problems instead. "I don't know that the past can be _fixed_, as you say, but there is certainly enough that needs our attention in the present. Please, continue with your tale," he directed.

"Of course," agreed Elfraine promptly, as glad of the distraction as he was. "For the rest of the ride back to Miles Cross Hall, I was preoccupied with how to manage things once I returned. My first concern was to find Fortune but after that I was at a complete loss as to how to proceed." She paused and shook her head at her own short-sightedness. "It struck me that I'd been unwise not to have given the matter any thought beforehand or taken any steps to forestall the problems that would undoubtedly arise on our return. All I'd been able to think about until then was to get her back," she added with a touch of sadness.

"A not unnatural thing to do," said Nuada as he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Still, it was foolish all the same," Elfraine averred. "And now I had two baby dragons to conceal and care for as well. There was also the problem of dealing with the hell-born miscreant who'd murdered my daughter... and how I could explain my daughter's miraculous return to life, and just... everything! The web was getting more tangled by the minute and the only plan I could think of was to throw myself on the mercy of the gypsies who were then camped in our fields, and seek asylum with them. The travellers were the only ones who wouldn't condemn me out of hand for what I'd done. They came every summer and I'd gotten to know their leader and his wife quite well. Old Johnnie Faa was related in some way to the King of the Gypsies, and I hoped he might give me sanctuary within his clan and plead my case with their king, though I knew full well what would be expected of me in order to earn my keep."

"I take it such drastic measures were not necessary," Nuada remarked, remembering what she'd told him the day before when he'd assumed, wrongly, that she'd traded her body for Manning's rune stone. He suddenly realised he needed to apologise for that.

"No, they were not necessary as it turns out," Elfraine was saying.

"About yesterday..." he said hesitantly, before she could continue.

"What about it?" she asked, puzzled at the abrupt change of topic.

"I am sorry for the assumption I made regarding how you persuaded Manning to part with the rune stone," he told her. "My experience with humans is that any and everything can be turned into an object of commerce but I was wrong in thinking it of you."

"Oh!" said Elfraine, surprised. "I... I accept your apology... and, thank you." She paused for a moment before looking away and continuing in a more sombre tone. "I've known women who were forced to turn to such measures because it was all that stood between life and death for them... and for their children in many cases. They all, sooner or later, had the life squeezed out of them, and I've always been thankful I've never had to take that path. Getting the rune stone was hardly a matter of life and death... for me at least," she added wryly.

Though Nuada could have said something about the heartlessness of creatures who abandoned some of the weakest and most vulnerable of their number to such a fate, he didn't. "Which reminds me," he murmured instead. "I also overlooked thanking you for the rune stone. It seems I was not particularly well-mannered yesterday and once again, I apologise for my lapse."

Elfraine's eyes flew to his. "_Only_ yesterday?" she teased gently as she smiled up at him. "I'll confine myself to saying merely that I forgive you for that as well."

Nuada's lips twisted with self-deprecation as he acknowledged the criticism; he had to admit to himself that she probably wasn't too far off the mark. "You are too kind, Lady," he replied, inclining his head slightly. "I would have liked to see you bargaining with Manning yesterday. I can't imagine it took you very long to talk him into submission."

Elfraine gave a rueful grin at that. "Unfortunately, he wasn't as amenable as I'd hoped he'd be, and it took longer than I expected to convince him to part with the rune stone," she admitted. "Luckily though, the Director has a highly-developed sense of self-preservation, and the balance finally swung in my favour when I thought to trade on _your_ formidable reputation."

Nuada arched his brow at that last part.

"I didn't think you'd mind," Elfraine rushed on, with a look of apology that didn't fool him in the slightest.

"I suppose if it had the desired effect..." he conceded. "Though there are quicker means by which you could have forced his hand."

"Yes," said Elfraine, diffidently. "Your _quicker means_ were exactly what I was trying to spare the Director." Nuada looked as if he might have more to say on that front and she quickly turned the conversation back to their more immediate concerns, not wanting to argue with him over Director Manning. "Anyway, as it turns out, I didn't need to throw myself on the mercy of the gypsies. Almost nothing happened as I feared – and hoped - it would. I was immortal by that stage, though I wouldn't discover that interesting fact until after I'd hung for Gretheved's murder and, of course, I never did get Fortune back... at least, not in the way I'd been expecting to," she added, once again solemn.

"Tell me about what happened when you returned," Nuada invited quietly.

With a tight smile, Elfraine continued her tale. "The only thing I had to congratulate myself on was the fact that before I'd set out, I left a note explaining to the servants how I'd been called on to tend a sick acquaintance who lived some days' ride away. With Gretheved in residence at Miles Cross, there were all manner of comings and goings at the house and no one would know whether or not I had in fact received any such summons. So my absence was one less thing to trouble myself over, and by the time I reached Miles Cross, I'd decided to hide the dragons in an old, abandoned gamekeeper's cottage on the estate, and worry about the rest once I had Fortune back."

"Hardly the most well thought out of plans," remarked Nuada, though not without some sympathy.

"Now _you_ are being too kind," said Elfraine. "It didn't especially deserve being called a plan of _any_ sort. I saw to the dragons right enough, settling them into the cottage and feeding them again before I left for the Hall, and at the Hall too, things went well enough to start with. No one questioned me on my absence other than to ask after the health of my newly-met friend, and Gretheved was still at Harleston's along with all of his people, including Allison. I went to my room to wait and in order to pass the time, I wrote in my diary of my journey to the Otherworld. As the hours passed and Fortune still did not appear, I started to become concerned and it occurred to me that perhaps I was supposed to look for her... and that's when all my high hopes started to come tumbling down."

"You didn't find her," he said.

"No, I didn't," she affirmed. "That first night I hunted high and low but to no avail. The rest of the household thought I was mad, rushing hither and thither, frantically searching – for what, they didn't know. A little after midnight, the last of the servants gave up on me and retired. I kept looking but always with the same result: nothing. I would hear her voice down a hallway but when I followed the sound, she was not there. Or I would catch sight of a small shape behind the drapes but when I pulled them open, there was no Fortune. Out of the corner of my eye, I would see something move but I was never quite quick enough to catch it, and by the time I'd turned my head, there was only the same empty space there'd always been."

"That must have been... distressing," Nuada observed quietly. An image, more than three and a half thousand years old, suddenly flashed through his mind. It was the Season of the Wolf, and under a cold, grey, winter sky, a light dusting of snow covered the ground and frosted the bare limbs of the surrounding trees. The sharp breaths of the Elven warriors and the snorts of their horses turned to white puffs of mist in the still, frigid air as they beheld the awful sight before them. As clearly as if it had happened only yesterday, Nuada saw a young Elven woman frantically searching amongst the shattered, lifeless remains of her neighbours and kinsfolk, looking for her baby and hoping against hope that her child had somehow survived the slaughter visited upon them by a band of human marauders.

It had been during one of his first commands in his father's army. His commission had not been handed to him simply because he was the Crown Prince; he'd had to earn it in the same way as every other officer in the Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae. But still he'd felt compelled to prove himself above and beyond that, and he'd been filled with fervour and fire in his determination to serve his king and his people to the best of his ability. On this particular day, following reports of increased human activity in the area, he'd taken a detachment from the Gardaí Capall to patrol the southern borderlands and ensure the humans did not encroach too far onto their lands as they were wont to do from time to time. One of the scouts had returned with a report of smoke rising from behind a distant ridge, and the company had gone to investigate.

Though he was full-used to the grim realities of battle by then, they'd come across a scene of such devastation and carnage as Nuada had never seen before. Of an entire Elven village, only the woman and her younger brother were left standing and that only because they'd been gathering wild thyme in the woods on the other side of the ridge. They'd heard the faint cries of their friends and family, and returned... but it had been too late. There were some few survivors amongst the fallen but being so injured as they were, not even the most skilled of the Elven healers could have helped them. All Nuada and his men could do was make the survivors' last moments on earth as comfortable as they possibly could.

Before he died, one youth told of how a large band of humans had ridden into the village and attacked without warning. Though the Elven men mounted a valiant defence, the human raiders greatly outnumbered them and soon gained the upper hand. It seemed they were after livestock and precious metals, and before they looted the village, they'd raped the women and then put everyone to the sword, from the most ancient of the elders to the very newest of the young.

The Elven mother had refused to believe her baby had come to any harm and set about turning everything over in her desperate attempt to find the infant despite the irrefutable evidence of her destroyed home, burned to ashes and her child likely turned to dust with it. They tried to stop her futile search but she could not be persuaded to cease in her efforts, and all Nuada could do was set a guard to watch over her and her brother whilst he and the rest of his men rode out to see that justice was served, though when they finally ran the human raiders to ground he made sure justice was not served so swiftly as it might have been otherwise. It was the first time he'd ever failed to dispatch an enemy with mercy, and afterwards, when making his report to Balor, he'd notched up another first: the sight of disappointment clouding his father's eyes. Even after all this time, it still stung to recall that moment.

Elfraine's account of her own frantic search for her daughter put him strongly in mind of the Elven mother from that long-ago day, a day which now lived only in memory as the past must do, and he could well-imagine just how distressing it had been for Elfraine not to have found the daughter who'd been so cruelly murdered before her very eyes, and for whom she'd gone to such great lengths in her attempt to wrest the child from the cold, dark grip of death.

"I searched until dawn," Elfraine was saying, "and as the servants were stirring for the day, it suddenly occurred to me that I'd likely been looking in the wrong place. If Fortune was not anywhere inside the house, then she must surely be outside, and so I started my search all over again."

"But with no more favourable result, I gather," Nuada said.

"No. She was not outside either," replied Elfraine in a flat voice. "But all through nature there was a strange undercurrent; it hummed in the notes of the birdsong, and it moved with the trees in the breeze. And threaded through it were the same half-heard whispers and fleeting glimpses which had bedevilled me in the Hall. I couldn't stop and so I kept searching until I could no longer stand. It was almost nightfall and I had to sit down, just for a little while. And whilst I sat, I thought... but nothing made any sense. The other members of the household came to check on me from time to time, and I could tell from the looks on their faces that they though me mad but I was past caring. Eventually I remembered the hatchlings and went to tend to them, and as I fed them, it occurred to me that maybe I just wasn't looking hard enough... I didn't know what else to think. And so that was the pattern for the next four or five days: searching for Fortune to no avail but always sensing her presence somewhere just out of reach, and seeing to the dragons in between... and wondering what on earth had gone wrong."

"What happened on the fifth day?" Nuada asked quietly.

"It was the night of the Bright Moon, and Gretheved and his people returned from Harleston's," replied Elfraine in a dull voice. "And I... I made several unpleasant discoveries that day. It was mid-afternoon when Gretheved arrived, and I had the misfortune of being almost at the bottom of the stairs in the antechamber when he entered the house." She noticed Nuada's inquiring frown and went on to explain. "I tried to avoid him as much as possible... I couldn't stand the sight of him. Anyway, the craven coward walked in first, looking well-pleased with himself as always, and behind him was Sir Nicholas Strangewayes, his steward from Blackstone Castle. Gretheved had been conversing with Sir Nicholas but when he saw me he stopped talking and approached, and made such a great show of greeting me by way of forcing his kiss upon me as to make me sick to my stomach."

Nuada's lips thinned and his hold on Elfraine tightened fractionally as he thought of the other man touching her against her will but he made no comment on it.

"Behind Sir Nicholas was Allison," continued Elfraine. "She took one look at me and turned as white as a sheet, very much as if she'd seen a ghost. And in that instant I knew she'd never thought to see me alive again and in the next, I realised – as you so rightly pointed out earlier - she'd intended for the dragon to kill me."

"If you had known anything about true magic, you'd have realised that before you even set out on your journey," Nuada told her gently.

"I don't know that it would have stopped me though," admitted Elfraine on a sigh. "I was so desperate to get Fortune back, I heard only what I wanted to hear and I managed to turn everything that should have given me pause into positive proof of the rightness of my actions." She hesitated for a moment as it occurred to her she was likely doing the same thing all over again with the quest she was now on. Sadly, she couldn't in all honesty say she'd learnt anything from the lessons of the past. Pushing the disturbing thought aside, she asked a question which had bothered her for the better part of four hundred years. "You make mention of true magic. Would... would you mind telling me if there was _anything_ I did that day which _didn't_ mark me for a total fool? I mean, not everything can have been a complete waste of time because how else could I have travelled between worlds and found the dragon otherwise?"

Nuada paused, uncertain of how to proceed. Magic, the lifeblood of his people, was the last thing he wanted to discuss with a human and yet he hesitated to insult her with an outright refusal to answer her question.

Elfraine, however, immediately saw to the heart of his uncertainty. "Of course, you needn't tell me if you don't wish to," she added hurriedly, sounding not at all put out by his unwillingness to enlighten her. "I think I've probably already answered my own question anyway."

"You are right," Nuada acceded, deciding it was the least he could tell her. "Not _everything_ the witch told you to do or gave you was 'a complete waste of time', as you put it."

"Just the better part of it," guessed Elfraine wryly.

Nuada inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"Hmmm," she murmured as she thought about what Allison had done. "I never spoke with her again. She seemed... anxious to avoid me after that. She'd obviously lied to me when she told me she no longer loved Gretheved but hated him instead and wanted revenge on him. And in my own hatred of him, I was only all too willing to believe her. I can only assume she chose such an elaborate and convoluted way of disposing of me in order that absolutely no suspicion would fall on her. If she'd either used witchcraft against me or tried a more direct approach, Gretheved would have undoubtedly found out and extracted a heavy toll from her... being as fond of me as he claimed to be," she added cynically. "Had I been eaten by a dragon in the Otherworld, I imagine no one would have been any the wiser."

"No, they wouldn't," Nuada confirmed. "I don't know that the dragon would have _eaten_ you but had it killed you in the Otherworld there would certainly have been nothing in this one to point to your fate. You mentioned making _several_ unpleasant discoveries..."

"Yes," replied Elfraine. "The most upsetting one of all was that I wasn't ever going to get my daughter back... at least not in earthly flesh and blood. Hard on the heels of realising Allison wanted me dead, came the knowledge that I hadn't yet found Fortune because I was never going to. Everything the witch had told me was directed at putting paid to my existence, not getting my daughter back for me. The only thing I couldn't understand was why the dragon didn't in fact kill me but instead led me to believe I'd succeeded in the manner that I'd hoped to."

"I wondered the same thing myself," remarked Nuada carefully.

Elfraine gave him a self-deprecatory look and continued. "As I pondered the question, it suddenly struck me he'd been laughing at me. My pathetic charms and rituals, so far from binding him to my will, were only objects of scornful derision to him and I suddenly saw that I'd caused him no end of amusement with my foolishness. Of course, I didn't know I was immortal then but later, when I'd finally made that discovery as well, it was but a short step to reach the conclusion that the dragon thought me a creature so worthy of mockery as to turn me into an _infinite jest_."

"It seems a rather extreme measure to take simply in order to prolong the... amusement, if indeed there was any amusement to be had," Nuada observed, with rare tact. He was somewhat taken aback by the note of self-condemnation he heard in Elfraine's voice.

"Do you really think so?" asked Elfraine, clearly not convinced.

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully.

"Well, I do," she muttered. "Anyway, the last of my discoveries that day was the realisation that I had in fact been granted my wish but unfortunately, I hadn't properly considered my words when making it."

"What do you mean?" he asked, with a quick frown.

"I wished to have my daughter with me for all eternity. I _shouldn't_ have wished for anything – in fact, I shouldn't have even been there. But having taken the path I did, you'd think the least I could do was make sure I got the bloody wish right. What I should have said to the dragon was that I wanted her back in earthly flesh and blood, to be with me until my dying day," Elfraine explained bitterly. "You see, I was born in the chime hours – at midnight – and so it was said the spirits of the dead would show themselves to me throughout my life. To my great relief, they never did... until the day my daughter was murdered. Her poor, wee spirit haunted me constantly in the months after her death but by the time I'd returned to Miles Cross, her shade had quietened... until I made that fateful wish. Because in giving me what I asked for, the dragon pulled her from her rest and set her ghost to haunt me once more, chime-born as I was. The true nature of the shadow I'd been chasing since returning from Carterhaugh was suddenly revealed in a blinding flash of illumination, along with my own dim-witted and shameful stupidity. My daughter was neither living nor resting in peace, all thanks to me. And what is worse it that even before I made that ill-considered wish, had I been of better character and firmer mind I would not have listened to Allison, whispering in my ear and holding out her false hope as she did. Fortune would have continued to rest in the peace she deserved, and I would have waited out whatever life was left to me until I could finally join her," Elfraine continued harshly. "It is entirely my fault she does not rest quietly now. I said 'yes' to Allison when I should have said 'no'... just as I did to Gretheved when he asked me to marry him."

She fell silent as she considered her culpability and Nuada, to his consternation, could find no words of comfort to offer her. He knew the feelings of shame and guilt only all too well, his failure with the Golden Army being proof of that. As he thought about what she'd told him, a question suddenly occurred to him. "Does your daughter haunt you still?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, though not so much since 1793 when my feet were set on a different path after my discovery at Versailles," Elfraine replied. "She's been quieter since then and it is that circumstance alone which makes me think I may yet succeed in fixing my mistake, though I don't hold any high hopes of it. But I have to try," she added, with a look that seemed to plead for understanding.

And Nuada did understand; how could he not? He would grasp at any chance, however slim, if it meant there was some hope or even the possibility of hope for his people. Anything had to be better than fading, as his father and sister had resigned themselves and all the rest of their kind to. He took Elfraine's face in his hands. "I know," he murmured as he bent his head to hers. He gave her a slow, gentle kiss, and she clung to the solid warmth of him as if he were a lifeline.

When he lifted his head, Elfraine saw he had that disconcerting look back in his eyes and she feared she might have a similar one in her own. "There's little else to tell," she whispered, sounding slightly shaken. "Having not seen me for some weeks, Gretheved was... he was keen to... to reacquaint himself with me. He ignored my protests and took me off to his bedchamber, leaving Sir Nicholas and Allison just standing there."

Nuada's lip curled in contempt. "He will pay for that," he promised Elfraine in a cold, deadly voice.

"The more I think about it, the more I wonder if he will ever truly pay for anything," she said despondently.

"He will," stated Nuada, with chilling finality.

The implacable resolve in his face gave Elfraine pause and she suddenly knew that if anyone could make her third husband pay, it would be the Elven warrior standing before her. "I believe you will be the one to see that he does," she said slowly before picking up her tale again. "After... after he'd finished, I watched him dress and it utterly galled me that he looked so damned pleased with himself. I thought, you will likely die peacefully in your bed, having lived the life you wanted and never having been called to account for your crimes, and some... some thick, black... _thing_ moved inside me at the thought." She paused and looked up at Nuada. "That was the moment I decided to kill him. I'd failed in my quest and only succeeded in tearing my daughter from her eternal rest – an angel pulled down from Heaven. There was no fixing that but it seemed I could at least try to avenge her death. Neither God nor man were overly concerned with seeing justice served so I made up my mind to serve it myself though as it turns out, I was not nearly as successful as I'd imagined myself to be these past four hundred years."

"I'm sure you meant well enough and did your best," Nuada consoled her, with an irony that brought a reluctant smile to her face.

"Indeed I did, on both counts," she agreed with a short laugh, "though the Lord High Steward and the rest of my peers didn't quite see it that way when they sat in judgment of me after the event."

"Tell me how you managed to kill him," he said quietly. "It may give some hint as to why you didn't ultimately succeed, and also help dispose of him once and for all."

"Of course," Elfraine replied. "Once I'd made up my mind, I started to plan the thing. I knew I could never take him in a direct attack. He was much bigger and stronger than I was and he always went about armed. He was a skilled fighter too, and I wouldn't have stood a chance against him. My aim was good with both pistol and bow, target shooting and archery being popular sports at court, but I would have to mount an ambush if I used those means and besides, it seemed to me that such a death would be too... quick."

Nuada raised his brow at that; it was a consideration such as he'd acted on in the past when it had been necessary to extract revenge for a wrong but he was well aware not everyone shared his views on the matter, and it surprised him that such an idea had occurred to her.

Elfraine caught his look and went on to explain, somewhat sharply. "I won't apologise for it but I wanted his death to be every bit as slow and painful... and terrifying and awful for him as Fortune's was for her."

"I do not criticise you, Lady. I am merely surprised, though I thoroughly approve of your approach," he assured her. "Please, continue."

Inclining her head, Elfraine carried on. "I decided at last that the best way to achieve my objective was to poison him first, not so that I'd kill him, mind you, but more to render him helpless against me... and _then_ I could take my time over him." She couldn't quite manage to keep the note of grim satisfaction from her voice as she dwelt on what she'd planned for – and done to - Gretheved all those years ago, never mind that she hadn't ultimately succeeded. "He had told me we were to travel to London again in a few weeks' time and it seemed to me the city would be a better place to carry out my plan. Knowing how such things could go in those days, I didn't want to implicate anyone at Miles Cross, however inadvertently, in any part of what I intended to do and the further away from home I was when I carried out the deed, the less likely that would be."

"A wise decision," murmured Nuada. He'd seen firsthand how human justice could cast a wide and indiscriminate net, and she was quite right to fear that her people might have also been punished for her actions if she'd carried out her plan closer to home.

"We were to stay at Hampton Court once more and it would be as good a place as any to kill him," she said. "Once we reached London, I would procure a sleeping draught from either a cunning man or a blessing witch, and then on Midsummer's Eve I'd put my plan into action. The previous year that night had proved to be a portentous one, being the night I blindly accepted Gretheved's proposal of marriage with such fatal results. I hoped now, a twelvemonth later, that fate would look more kindly on me and the night would prove itself propitious for my purpose."

"There is a certain... symmetry to that notion," agreed Nuada.

"Having decided on my course of action, there was not much else left to do," she continued. "The only concern I had was in regards to the two young dragons. Whether I was successful or not, they would be left without a protector. I would either fail, in which case Gretheved would surely kill me, or I would succeed, in which case the law would put paid to my existence. After some thought, I decided to take Jamie Langham and Clemence Fitton into my confidence."

"Your daughter's playmates," murmured Nuada, recalling what he'd read in her diaries. "They were some years older, were they not."

"Yes," affirmed Elfraine. "They were certainly old enough to care for the dragons and once they got over their astonishment, they took to the task with great enthusiasm. For the next three weeks they tended to the hatchlings with me and by the time I left for London, they were more than competent to take over completely. I told them I didn't know when I'd be back... though in truth, I never expected to set foot in Miles Cross Hall again. They were such good children," she said, with a fond look in her eye as she remembered them. "They both promised to care for the dragons, 'forever and ever' if need be, and young Jamie swore he'd defend them with his life. I was hard pressed not to embrace him for such a valiant oath but it was clear he was trying to be a man in the matter and so I hesitated to offend his dignity with something as lowering as a hug from a girl."

Nuada's lips twisted in a half-smile. At a similar age, he would have chosen to run a thousand miles rather than suffer a hug from anything in skirts, even including his beloved sister for a time, much to her dismay. Unfortunately, as Crown Prince, running was not an option and he was regularly forced to endure such indignities as part of his duties at court. The Elven ladies and female guests of the king had seldom displayed such regard for his feelings as Lady Wylde appeared to have extended towards _her_ young favourite.

"Anyway," continued Elfraine, "all that was left was to set my affairs in order, which I did, and we set out for London on the tenth of June. The day before we left I made my final entry in the family Bible and hid both it and the Estate Ledger in a secret compartment in the wall of my bedchamber. I also took one last walk around the Hall and grounds, quietly saying goodbye to it all, and then I went into the fields and took my leave of my tenants. If I succeeded in killing Gretheved, the estate would be forfeit to the Crown in order to pay my fine but I knew the king would make provision for my people and see to it they didn't suffer unnecessarily – he was a fair man in such matters. If I didn't succeed... well, it would all be in Gretheved's hands and that would be no different to affairs as they stood in the present case."

Once again, Elfraine's words put Nuada in mind of his own past. He recalled the day he'd left Bethmoora and gone into exile, no longer able to stand by and watch his father's sense of honour destroy his people. He knew that without the Golden Army and despite his father's precious truce, ruin would surely follow for the Fae but he was a voice in the wilderness and suddenly he was faced with an impossible choice: stay, and witness the sure slide into oblivion, losing his spirit and his self-respect in endless, futile attempts to change his father's mind – for he knew his father would never listen to him in this one matter just as he knew he could never stop trying to make his father listen; or leave, and hang on to his self-respect and the vital spark which animated him but lose his family in the process. In the end, he'd chosen the latter. It was clear that the only way he could serve his people effectively was from afar; by learning as much about the enemy as he could, he hoped to find some way out of the impasse which faced his kind. Like Elfraine, he too had taken a quiet leave of all he'd ever known and loved, and the hardest one of all to say goodbye to had been his sister, Nuala. The thought of that farewell brought a sharp pain to his heart and he ruthlessly closed the door on his memories to concentrate once more on what Elfraine was saying. He had to get his sister back first if he was to ever stand a chance of mending his fences with her.

"So your plan proceeded without any impediment?" he asked Elfraine now.

"Yes, it did," she replied. "We arrived in London on the fourteenth and the next day I set about making my preparations. Midsummer's Eve finally arrived and suddenly, the _game was afoot_. That day, the Queen hosted the customary Midsummer entertainments. As usual, they went on until well into the evening hours and after the revels had finished we retired to our chambers for the night. It was not long before he came knocking on my door. I'd obtained a sleeping powder from a blessing witch at the Cheapside markets, near St. Paul's, on the pretext that it was for me - to aid me in my rest. She told me a thimbleful mixed with either wine or ale would be sufficient for my needs so I slipped two thimblefuls into Gretheved's glass, mixed it with some ale and then watched carefully while he drank it. He was larger than me and I could only hope I'd guessed the dose right; I feared it would either be not enough or it would kill him outright. Before long, it took effect and he began to grow drowsy. Being no longer able to stand, he was soon forced to take a chair and as he sat, I could no longer contain my elation. As he beheld my look of triumph, he realised immediately what had happened – and what was going to happen - and he attempted to make some noise, to attract the attention of anyone who may have been nearby. But I was ready for that and I stuffed a cloth into his mouth and bound it tight, much as he'd done to me the night he killed my daughter. "You might be tempted to make some... noise at what you are about to undergo, husband," I told him, using his words to me from that night. "I cannot allow you to disrupt my plans," I continued, and then I bound his hands and feet, although he was no longer capable of much movement. I thought with what I had planned for him, he might somehow find the reserves to fight back and so was taking no chances."

"A wise precaution," murmured Nuada.

"And then I set about my work," Elfraine carried on, in a tone of flat detachment. "I'd given much thought as to how to proceed and I was as happy as I could be that I'd hit on exactly the right combination of... cuts to ensure he suffered as much as possible before I delivered the coup de grâce. First, I retrieved a dagger which I'd concealed in the armoire, and slit the tendons behind his knees and heels so he couldn't move if he did manage to escape my bonds. Then I cut the tendons in his elbows so he couldn't catch me a glancing blow if he escaped the ties on his arms. It was not an easy task because he could still move a little and he would not hold still for me. And too, I made the mistake of looking up at his face. The sick look of terror I saw in his eyes as he realised his end was at hand should have given me much satisfaction but to my... annoyance it only made me feel sick myself and just for a moment I was in danger of abandoning my project altogether. But the image of my daughter appeared before my eyes, as she'd been in her last minutes on this earth, and my resolve was strengthened once more. To guard against any further hesitation though, I bound his eyes with a length of material which I cut from my skirts for the purpose."

"Again, a sensible thing to do," remarked Nuada. He himself had never baulked at such a sight, particularly with those who'd earned the full weight of his wrath, but he could understand why Elfraine might have hesitated if she was unused to such business.

"As I said," she continued, "I'd thought a lot about what I was going to do and I decided to follow the law in _my_ method of execution: castration, followed by hanging, drawing and quartering. That would have been his fate if the law hadn't been so weighted in his favour. So, his privates were first to go - my dagger was good enough for that – and next I drew his entrails. I had to use his sword there. The blade was made of the finest steel money could buy and it did the job splendidly. For the last part, I had to behead him. Hanging would have been too difficult for me to manage. Mind you, cutting his head off wasn't a particularly easy thing to do either but with a few good swings of his sword, I managed it. And then came the quartering. It was just as well I was used to physical labour – from the lean years at Miles Cross - for it gave me the strength to do what I had to."

"A lucky circumstance," murmured Nuada.

"All that then remained was to take his head and place it on one of the pikes over Traitor's Gate at the southern end of London Bridge. I thought it fitting though I knew _I_ was the one who'd be judged a traitor. In those days, killing a husband was a minor form of treason." Even though it had been four hundred years, that still rankled and Elfraine couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"I'd hidden a large sack under my bed so I could carry his head," she continued. "On the spur of the moment, I decided to take his entrails and privates, thinking to also find some more fitting method of disposal along the way. I headed to the stables, saddled Blythe, and then set off. I hadn't gone very far when I passed some yards which kept livestock for the palace. It occurred to me that the pigs could put Gretheved's privates to better use than I ever did, and so I tossed them into the sty before continuing on my way." She hesitated for a moment. "Though everything I did was for Fortune and I have a clear conscience there, I will admit that feeding the pigs was entirely for my own benefit - in retaliation for having to endure his loathsome touch after he'd killed my daughter," she admitted.

"Then justice was well-served," said Nuada, with a note of grim satisfaction in his voice.

"I thought so," remarked Elfraine. "London Bridge was about fifteen miles away and it took me almost two hours to get there. I saw very few people about, it being so late, and no one tried to stop me. Once at the southern gatehouse of the bridge, I climbed the tower and looked for an empty pike. There being none vacant, I pushed a mostly-rotted head off a pike on one corner of the battlements and replaced it with Gretheved's. And as I took one last look at the houses, shops and inns lining the length of the bridge, the thought came into my head that it would be as good a place as any to leave his entrails."

"It was certainly a very... public statement," observed Nuada.

"It was, wasn't it," agreed Elfraine, with a grimace. "And having made my statement, and with nothing further to do, I returned to our apartments to await the arrival of morning - and discovery - with the remains of his corpse. I knew what would follow, or at least I thought I did, and I had not a care in the world over the knowledge that I would be burned at the stake in short order," she said.

"I thought you said they hung you," said Nuada.

"And so they did," Elfraine confirmed, "thanks, if that is the word for it, to the efforts of Sir Nicholas Strangewayes, Gretheved's steward. The punishment for petty treason was death by fire, and that would have surely been my fate had it not been for Sir Nicholas. It was most odd but he lived up to his name and just before the death sentence was handed down, he intervened on my behalf, unasked by me I might add. He begged their Lordships' indulgence in the manner of my execution and requested that I be hung instead, spouting some nonsense about his late master's forgiving _Christian_ disposition, and deep and abiding affection for me. How I restrained myself from laughing outright in court that day, I'll never know, for my late, unlamented husband was so far from God that only the Devil himself – and quite possibly me by that stage - could have stood any further apart."

"Why did the steward do such a thing?" wondered Nuada aloud. "It was certainly unusual given that he was Gretheved's man."

"I never did find out why he did me that one small kindness," replied Elfraine. "Anyway, the Lords granted Sir Nicholas his request with one caveat. I was not to be executed behind the walls of the Tower as was normal practice for a peeress but rather would suffer the humiliation of a public execution on the Tyburn Tree – the same place where my first husband, Robert, was executed – and I would have for company, twelve other convicted felons who were awaiting execution. My corpse would then be hung in chains on the gibbet to serve as a warning to other wives who might be tempted to treat their lord and master in a similar fashion, and that was to be the ignominious end of me."

"But it wasn't, was it," murmured Nuada.

"No, it was not," said Elfraine, with a hard smile. "The date of my execution was set for the twenty-ninth of June, a Monday as usual, though the date was not as propitious as it might have been, being one day short of the date of my wedding to Gretheved a twelvemonth earlier. But it was as good a day as any and when it arrived, I was taken to Tyburn along with my fellow prisoners. We travelled in four ox-carts, four to a cart with me having one to myself - on account of my rank no doubt - and arrived to find one of the largest crowds in living memory assembled for the midday entertainment... again, due to my rank as well as a certain notoriety I'd gained by that time."

"I can well imagine," said Nuada, having first-hand knowledge of such spectacles and knowing there would have likely been several thousand spectators in attendance.

"You don't know the half of it," Elfraine told him with a wry look. "There were two epithets vying for supremacy in the days leading up to my execution. Roughly half the London broadsheets styled me as the Butcheress of Blackstone Castle whilst the other half favoured the Murderess of Miles Cross. My own preference was for the former; I couldn't bear to think of my beloved home suffering by association, not that I had any say in the matter. Oh, and the lurid pictures that accompanied the story! My gaoler _kindly_ showed me some of the more popular ones doing the rounds and for a while, it seemed my day of execution couldn't come soon enough." Elfraine shuddered as she thought of the rough, crude drawings depicting her in various states of undress, with a lascivious look in her eye and brandishing a knife in her hand... and holding one particular part of the male anatomy proudly aloft. "Thank God the blasted things are so rare these days."

"What do you mean?" asked Nuada, slightly puzzled.

"I've spent the last fifteen years working in universities and museums, the very sorts of places where you might find an old broadsheet," she explained darkly. "I can just imagine what the reaction of colleagues would be if they happened upon one of the pictures illustrating my case. The artistic quality was poor, certainly, but the likeness in the ones I saw was unmistakable and it was exceedingly embarrassing to have to look at them."

"Then let us hope none of yours have survived the test of time," said Nuada gallantly.

"Yes, I suppose I should be thankful my luck has held thus far," murmured Elfraine. "Anyway, the day of the twenty-ninth was a bright, clear summer's day – fine and hot, with a light breeze blowing up the dust - and the crowd was in an excellent mood. I... I had by that time become... apprehensive over what I was about to face," she admitted quietly. "The... distraction of the trial was at an end and I'd spent several days in the Tower just waiting for the fated day. Of course, it was supposed to be a time of reflection and repentance, and in the waiting there'd been nothing to do _but_ think though I held fast in my refusal to repent, thus earning the appellation of 'Godless witch' along with everything else that was being said of me. Mostly I dwelt on the past but eventually, and naturally enough I suppose, my thoughts turned to what was to come and it began to play on my mind – that fear of the unknown. It would have been better had they found me guilty one day and executed me the next, for the waiting - with only my thoughts for company - was the hardest thing of all to bear."

Nuada held her close at that; he could only imagine how the waiting must have played on her mind and eaten away at her resolve. Four years' ago, his father had passed the sentence of death on him... and his sister. _Then you leave me no choice_, athair had said. _Death! _Nuada had turned to his sister and asked if _she_ was at peace with their king's verdict; he'd been disappointed but hardly surprised when she'd answered in the affirmative. From that point on, there was no turning back. _Then very well, death it is, _he'd replied, handing down a death sentence of his own which he'd carried out as soon as he'd dispatched his father's guards. There'd been no waiting and no time to think things through. They'd already had the better part of four thousand years for that and they'd achieved precisely nothing in all that time, he thought sadly, with his father and himself only becoming more and more entrenched in their respective positions... til it came down at last to the inevitable - a fight to the death.

"You are right about the waiting," he said to Elfraine now. "In such circumstances, it hardly achieves anything, and much as I dislike the thought of any harm coming to you, it would have been kinder to carry out sentence straight away."

"Why, thank you," said Elfraine, truly touched by his thought. Apart from the death of her daughter, waiting in the Tower for the day of execution to arrive had been the worst thing she'd ever lived through, and she'd have preferred to meet her maker sooner rather than stretch out her life for the mere sake of a little more time to reflect on the inevitable. "But of course, all my worrying was for nothing, though I didn't know it at the time," she added a touch cynically.

"One of my co-condemned was an older man, and he kept up the spirits of those of us who were less than cheerful about what was coming," Elfraine continued. "We all knew how these things went. The crowd expected us to put on a good show, as it were, and meet our deaths with a certain nonchalance and poise – a Devil-may-care attitude, I suppose. They'd cheer us for a good dying but be less than complimentary to anyone who showed any fear or weakness at the end, and with that in mind we paid good heed to our self-appointed leader. We'd all dressed carefully for the occasion, in our finest clothes. I must say, owing to my rank I was better turned out than the rest; I wore the dress Gretheved had given me for the Midsummer revels at Harleston House the year before, and there were more than a few 'oohs' and 'ahs', along with the cat calls, when I climbed out of the cart."

She paused for a minute before carrying on. "I didn't know who my fellow prisoners were or what crimes they'd committed, and nor did I care. I've no doubt there were some truly terrible villains amongst us as well as some who were entirely blameless, and then of course, there was the rest of us, lined up as we were somewhere in between. The only one of the others who particularly caught my attention, apart from the older man, was a young lad of about twelve or thirteen summers. He put me much in mind of Jamie Langham, though he was perhaps a year or two older. He was cutting up sore over the fate he was about to meet, and so I stood next to him for a while and tried to offer him such words of comfort as I could but then they started to place us in the horse-drawn carriage from whence we would be hung, and we were separated. I had, by this time, recovered my composure, thanks in no small part to the efforts of our leader and the mood of the crowd, and was quite determined to give as good account of myself as I could, being the last of the Somerleds and the last Countess of Wylde as I was."

And so saying, she unwittingly gave Nuada several more reasons to think well of her.

"I was last to mount the three-legged mare and being as set against me as the crowd was, by the broadsheets and the gossip, a huge hiss and jeer went up as I ascended the carriage. Strangely enough, it didn't cower me but only stiffened my resolve to show my mettle right to the end. I turned and swept a bow to the crowd, told them I damned their eyes and would see them in Hell soon enough and finally, I kissed the hangman on each cheek. For my efforts, I'm pleased to say I earned a rousing cheer and a round of applause. Then the hangman placed the noose around my neck, the vicar said a few words over our souls and the coachman whipped up the horses which took off at great speed, leaving us to drop to our deaths. I was not so lucky that my neck snapped when the horses took off. Like many who'd ridden the three-legged mare, I dangled at the end of the rope and choked to death instead. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the friends and family of some of the condemned rush forward to pull on their legs and hasten their deaths so they wouldn't suffer too long. Unfortunately, being the last of my family and having not a friend who would own me by then, there was no one to perform that office for me. There was a great deal of noise and confusion for some moments - the roar of the crowd and sounds of us condemned as we died, and the desperate, futile struggle for breath. And then there was a sudden silence and stillness – almost a suspension of time – and my daughter's ghost appeared before me for a moment before the black tide rose up and pulled me under. I'd hoped hers would be the last face I ever saw and as I felt the life flow out of me, it seemed my final wish had been granted."

She had certainly made him consider his own past, both recent and distant, Nuada thought as he searched Elfraine's face, troubled by her stark, awful words. His mind flew back to the day, four years ago, when his sister had killed him in the chamber of the Golden Army in Bethmoora. When he'd died, he had experienced the same struggle but in his case, as the black tide rose around him, he'd been reminded anew of his sister's loathing for everything he had done. Like his father, she had hated him too. He understood now, after his revelation of last night, that his father hadn't hated him but had been much grieved instead at the rift between them. However, Nuada realised he no longer knew what his sister thought of him. Though he'd understood it would not be easy to mend his fences with her and find some common ground in the matter of their people, he hadn't considered, until now, that such a thing might well be impossible.

He looked down at Elfraine and suddenly her warmth and light looked more inviting than ever. In a world beset by uncertainty, she seemed to him to be an anchor. Though she'd been tossed about by the Fates, she'd weathered the storms and remained unbeaten and determined in her plans. In comparison to what he faced with his sister and his people, she was an altogether straightforward and uncomplicated proposition, and in his heart, he was glad she was his, even if only for a brief moment in time. And being as well-disposed towards her as he now was, her account of her hanging - when she'd truly believed she was facing the end - made a deep impression on him. "I'd wish you a kinder end than that," he told her now, as he pushed back a stray curl from her face.

"I can't complain," replied Elfraine, a touch of irony colouring her tone. "I died with the sun on my face and ready to take my place in Hell for my sins on earth. But obviously, it _wasn't_ the end of me, though I think it should serve as the end of my story now, for after that day I never so much as even heard Gretheved's name mentioned again... until this morning," she added, with a frown. "So, now you know all of it, or very nearly all of it. What do you propose we do next, Nuada?" she asked, with that practical focus he liked so much.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close as he stared out onto the balcony and considered his next move. Gràinne, the elf-witch in the Troll Market, might be able to make something out of the fragmented bits and pieces he'd gleaned from Elfraine's diaries.

Outside, the last rays of the setting sun had turned the asphalt and brick to gold, and for the moment the grey ugliness of the human city lay draped beneath the gossamer veil of nature, becoming a thing of strange and transient beauty instead. "Look," he murmured in Elfraine's ear, as he turned her around in his arms so she could witness the sight too.

She knew immediately what he meant and leaned back into him, admiring the way the golden shafts of light struck the buildings and made them glow softly amidst the gathering shadows of the coming night. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"It's not the only thing of beauty before me," he murmured as he swept aside her hair and bent down to nuzzle her neck.

"Oh," breathed Elfraine softly, melting into him with delight at the compliment.

He was about to turn her back around again so he could kiss her properly, when they were interrupted by an insistent meowing coming from the terrace.

Golden Elven eyes looked up sharply and narrowed in annoyance as they met the baleful, yellow eyes of the cat sitting just outside the door, slowly swishing its tail backwards and forwards. "I'll gladly teach that cat of yours some manners, if you wish it," muttered Nuada as he eyed the tattered, ginger tom with disfavour.

Elfraine started forward and opened the door. "In you come, Goblin," she said. The cat just sat there and stared up at her expectantly. With a sigh, she stepped outside and bent down to pick him up. "That's right, you lazy creature," she scolded gently, as she held him in her arms. "No sense in doing anything for yourself if you can get someone else to do it for you."

She turned around to walk back inside and as she did so, Nuada caught a glimpse of something writhing and massing in the encroaching shadows surrounding the warehouse. As he opened his mouth to call out a warning, Elfraine was suddenly knocked off her feet by a rushing black shadow that appeared out of nowhere and tore into her.

The cat jumped out of her arms, twisting and flipping in an acrobatic manoeuvre that impressed even the Elven warrior, and landed just inside the open door. He jumped sideways then flicked his paw out and licked it before using it to calmly clean behind his ear, apparently oblivious to his near-brush with death and utterly unconcerned that Elfraine, who had only gone to let him in after all, was on her hands and knees on the terrace, struggling against the black, glittering creature trying to rip apart every atom in her body.

It was all over in an instant. Elfraine pushed through with the dragon magic and everything held together. As had happened when she first met one of the shadow beasts some five days ago at the BPRD, there came a moment of intense pain and crushing blackness, and suddenly it all stopped as the shadow vanished. And as before, her hands and arms had a strange, shimmering, silvery-white look to them.

Nuada had his spear in his hand by now, and he ran out onto the balcony to meet the swarming shadow beasts coming in fast over the tops of the buildings and doing their best to avoid the dying rays of the setting sun. He paused only to reach down and grab Elfraine by the arm and thrust her back inside the apartment. Then he swung around to meet the dark, massing danger as the last ray of sun turned his pale hair and skin to silver-gold, and glinted off the Silverlance in a dazzling flash of white light.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

'And it must follow, as the night the day' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act I, Scene III (Polonius to Laertes)

Executioner's mercy: witches were normally strangled to death before being burnt at the stake, though in more serious cases this step was dispensed with and the victim endured a period of excruciating pain from the flames and heat before they died. Such suffering, along with the actual death, was the objective, fulfilling, as it did a number of social and political purposes, including serving as both a punishment and a deterrent (and a form of entertainment!).

Human impulse to both destroy and create: see Freud, Sigmund, [1930], _Civilization and Its Discontents _(London, New York, Camberwell, Toronto, New Delhi, Auckland & Rosebank, Penguin Books, 2002) for an introduction to this topic. See too Douglas, Kate, '_Homo virtuous?',_ New Scientist, No. 2890, 10 November 2012, (Reid Business Information, Australia, USA, UK).

"The web was getting more tangled by the minute": a reference to Sir Walter Scott's lines, 'Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive! (_Marmion_, Canto vi., Stanza xvii.)

Johnnie Faa was the leader of the Gypsies in Scotland in the mid-sixteenth century.

Season of the Wolf: in old Europe, winter was known as the Season of the Wolf because wolves were forced by a scarcity of food to leave the forests and scavenge in outlying villages.

An Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae: (Irish Gaelic) The Bethmooran Defenders of the Fae (the army).

An Gardaí Capall na Bethmoora: (Irish Gaelic) The Horse Guards of Bethmoora (the cavalry).

'Bright Moon': Celtic name for the full moon in May (May 13th, 1615).

'Infinite jest' - Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act V, Scene I. "Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of _infinite jest_, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is!" (Hamlet to Horatio).

Chime hours: (English folklore) Those born at midnight, which fell during the chime hours, were believed to be able to see ghosts. 'Chime hours' probably refers to the old monastic hours of night prayer, which were marked by the ringing of bells.

Lord High Steward (of England): the first of the Great Officers of State. The office is generally only filled at coronations and during the trials of peers by their peers in the House of Lords (such trials were abolished in 1948). The Lord High Steward presided over these trials and the office has been in existence since the middle of the twelfth century.

Cunning man or woman: (wise man or woman – 16th c. England) Person practising beneficent magic ('blessing witch').

'The game [was] afoot' – Shakespeare, _Henry V, Act III_. "The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge, Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'"

"Old" London Bridge: (the medieval bridge) Construction begun in 1176 and finished in 1209. Replaced by the "New" London Bridge in 1825. Houses and shops were allowed on the old medieval bridge and by the 16th century there were over 200 buildings of all shapes and sizes. Some buildings were up to seven stories high, some overhung the river, and some the road by considerable amounts.

For many centuries Tyburn was the principal place of execution for London criminals, convicted traitors and religious martyrs. The Tyburn Tree, erected in 1571, was a unique form of gallows that allowed several felons to be hanged at once, and was used for mass executions. These took place weekly, on Mondays. This type of gallows was also known as a 'three-legged mare' or 'three-legged stool'. The term 'gibbet' refers to both a device for execution, such as a gallows, and also the practice of placing a criminal on display – usually after they'd been executed - within one (a.k.a. "hanging in chains").

Broadsheet: an early predecessor to the modern newspaper. They were usually single sheets of paper which were sold cheaply by street-vendors and covered a variety of material, including pictures, news, popular history, political comment or satire, poems and songs. They were popular from the 15th to 18th centuries and depending on the subject matter, could be crude and sensational at times.

.

_Chapter posted 2nd December 2012_


	36. Chapter 35

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 35**

As he spun back to meet the shadow beasts, Nuada had only seconds to take measure of the situation before they were on him but it was all he needed. With the wall of the apartment at his back, and the balcony railing to his left, he flexed his hands around the shaft of the Silverlance and quickly raised it as he angled himself to the menacing, black creatures leaping across from the adjacent building.

Moving like lightning, he sprang forward and swung his weapon in a wide arc, slicing into the neck of the first shadow beast. A thick, black liquid oozed from the gaping wound and the creature fell lifeless to the ground. Nuada followed the line of his spear and spun in mid-air. Landing lightly, he lunged forward and thrust the weapon into the stomach of the next creature. It joined the first one, dead on the ground, but five more of the swiftly-moving fiends had taken their place. The Elven warrior was now surrounded on three sides. The bodies at his feet shimmered briefly then vanished into thin air.

At least he now knew Elven silver could fell them and besides, it would be good to face an opponent who actually tested him. The only one who'd come close in the last four months was Anung un Rama but as Nuada had noted on many occasions, the demon relied too much on brute strength and lacked the finesse and imagination to be a truly satisfying adversary.

In a series of whirling upper cuts and thrusts, Nuada drove back the attacking creatures. Several of his blows slipped past the creatures' guard and two more fell dead to the ground, viscous, black liquid seeping from their wounds before they too shimmered and disappeared. The shadow beasts learned quickly though; the remaining two leapt back out of the reach of the Silverlance and from seemingly thin air, each pulled out a large, glittering, black broadsword.

Another four creatures, now similarly armed, joined them. They rushed Nuada en masse. He sprang up onto the balcony railing to his left and ran along its length, trying to get behind them. Swinging his lance in a slicing motion, he leapt over the sleeping stone dragons and took off the heads of two more of the fiends. Their blood, if it could be called blood, sprayed more freely this time. Before their bodies had even hit the ground, another three came down from the rooftop to take their place. In an instant, Nuada was facing seven of the deadly, stygian creatures with still more rushing at him from the surrounding buildings.

They were trying to box him in. He needed to lead them away from the confines of the balcony to more open space, where he could use the Silverlance to greater effect against them. He was nearly at the other side of the railing now and lunged towards a small access ladder in front of him. Grabbing hold of one of the rungs, he hauled himself up and headed for the roof with the shadow beasts hard on his heels.

Ice-cold fingers bit into his thigh. He was yanked off the ladder and hurled back down to the balcony. Rolling into the fall, he regained his feet in an instant and swung out with his weapon. It caught two of the creatures a glancing blow each and they fell back but their companions quickly closed in on Nuada.

He was fighting a wholly defensive action now, with no chance of attacking. All he could do was block and parry the deadly, slicing swords striking at him from all directions. The air was alive with the sound of gleaming Elven silver ringing on glittering, dark shadow-blades. There was no time to think, no time to plan... only time to react.

But he'd faced daunting odds before and he knew how to do this. As effortlessly as he breathed, he cleared his mind of everything but the moment and called upon the heart of his magic to focus his whole being on the surrounding space with an awareness that went beyond the five senses. And drawing on nearly four thousand years' worth of hard-won fighting experience and ruthlessly forged self-control, he set about deflecting the creatures' attacks as he waited for his opening: that inevitable crack through which he could force his way to turn the fight around and gain the upper hand.

... ...

Elfraine watched, transfixed, as the battle unfolded before her under the darkening sky. The shadow beasts were getting harder to see and although she knew Nuada had keener eyesight than she did, she thought he might appreciate some light. She flicked the switch beside the balcony doors and twin carriage lamps cast a soft glow over the figures engaged in the deadly struggle on the terrace.

She'd thought Nuada a good swordsman when he'd taken on the hounds outside the BPRD several days ago but she hadn't appreciated until now just how skilled a fighter he was. She cringed as she thought of the bluff she'd tried to pull when he'd found her training with Nuala in the storeroom; it was no wonder he'd laughed at her. Watching him now, she realised the idea of her _ever_ taking him unawares was little more than a joke. Although she was competent enough and could more often than not hold her own even without the advantage of immortality, the Elven warrior outclassed her not just on speed and strength but on every other count as well... except, of course, said immortality.

He moved with a fluid grace and strength that was mesmerising to watch; the Silverlance seemed an extension of his body rather than a thing apart from it. And it was not just his skill with the weapon that was impressive but also his keen awareness of his surroundings and the use he made of all his faculties to counter the attacks of the fiendish creatures - half-man, half-beast - and cut them down. With unerring, preternatural instinct, he seemed to know exactly the right thing to do every time. His reactions and movements appeared effortless, and they stood in stark contrast to the fierce concentration and application she had to bring to her own fighting endeavours. She didn't doubt he was concentrating every bit as fiercely as anyone; it was just that he made it all seem so... easy. He turned his head and for a fleeting moment the light from one of the carriage lamps fell across his face and threw his features into sharp relief, a chiselled silver-white visage standing stark against the looming blackness of the night. Elfraine caught sight of the briefest lift at the corner of his mouth and realised with a start that he was actually enjoying this.

But she felt a twinge of concern as the shadow beasts kept coming at him. They moved more quickly than even Nuada and he was greatly outnumbered by them. As good as he was he would soon start to tire against the relentless onslaught. Elfraine wondered if she should go out onto the terrace and lend a hand but she had the nasty feeling that within the confines of the balcony, she'd only end up getting in his way and proving to be an unnecessary distraction. The only thing she was likely to achieve was a right royal telling off afterwards… if he came out of the battle alive.

Suddenly, Nuada staggered as a glittering, black blade finally slipped past his guard and skimmed across his thigh, cutting through the silky material of his black trousers and exposing the white skin beneath. He recovered almost instantly but Elfraine could see a thin, dark-gold line welling up in the track of the cut, and her twinge of concern flared into full-blown worry, which wasn't helped by the sight of the dragons starting to stir. It was far earlier than they usually awoke but they were sleeping right in the midst of the fighting and she could only guess that the deadly contest raging all around them must have disturbed their rest. They were likely to get themselves hurt, or worse, if they tried to move now.

_Helpful reticence be damned_, she thought to herself. The Elven prince could read her the riot act later on if he liked but for now, she was going to go out there and do her best _not_ to get in his way, and see if she couldn't help at least a little. She stepped forward and reached down to grab her sword from beside the door but stopped as she remembered her failure to make any impression with the blade from the BPRD armoury when she'd first tangled, literally, with one of the shadow beasts almost a week ago. Her eyes narrowed consideringly as she saw how effective the Silverlance was against the creatures; _it_ didn't pass harmlessly through them.

Then she remembered Nuada's other weapon; she swung her head towards the couch. His sword was still lying there on the floor where he'd left it when he'd arrived earlier in the afternoon... and right beside it was his armour. Elfraine got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she realised he hadn't had time to put that on. She ran over and picked up his sword, then turned back to the doors, unsheathing the sharp, gleaming length of Elven silver and throwing aside the scabbard as she made for the balcony. Hefting the blade in her hand, she noted with satisfaction that it was an exceptionally well-balanced weapon of good weight, if slightly longer than she would have preferred; it shouldn't take her long to get used to the feel of it.

... ...

On the periphery of his vision, Nuada saw Elfraine run out onto the balcony. He was only surprised that she'd done as he'd told her, in not so many words, and stayed put for as long as she had, which was not long at all. At least she had the sense to bring his sword out with her now; he doubted the steel of her own weapon would be of much use against these infernal shadow creatures. She was about to get her chance to prove she wasn't entirely without skill, as she'd told him in no uncertain terms when they'd fought the Hounds of Odin at the BPRD, and she would need every advantage she could muster. He only hoped she could manage to be a bit more adroit in dealing with the shadow beasts than she had been with the hounds. The head-on, hack and slash approach she had taken then might have been crudely effective against those great, slavering creatures but it would do her no good against the altogether quicker and more agile foe they faced now.

Her appearance distracted the attacking fiends momentarily and it was the opening Nuada had been waiting for. In the split second they eased off their attack on him, he whipped the Silverlance around and sliced into the chest of one of the creatures, then thrust the spear into the belly of a second one. As before though, more of the shadow beasts only swarmed up over the balcony railings to take their place but at least he'd regained the offensive, and he was determined to hang onto it.

Two of the creatures peeled off from their attack on Nuada and turned to rush Elfraine but she was ready for them. She swept the Elven sword in an upwards arc, blocking the blow from the first assailant, and then ducked under the sweep of the second creature's weapon. Spinning round as she came up, she slipped past the shadow's guard and cut into to its stomach, killing it instantly to her great satisfaction. In the brief moment it took her to congratulate herself on her foresight in using Nuada's sword instead of her own, the first creature struck out at her again and thrust its weapon into her chest.

"_Gods Blood_!" she swore as she doubled over in pain and instinctively pushed through with the dragon magic. She really couldn't afford to let her attention wander, even for a second. Though they couldn't kill her, the shadow beasts' attacks hurt like the very blazes – more so than anything she'd ever experienced – and she would really rather avoid any more pain like that if she could. As the creature pulled its blade back out of her chest, she struck out at it with all her might. The razor-sharp edge of the Elven sword cleaved through its arm and into its torso. It fell to the ground and shimmered briefly before disappearing along with the other fiend lying dead at her feet.

The dragons were fully awake now and extremely agitated. Elfraine raced over to shield them from the fight and as she turned back to face the fiends on the balcony, another creature came from seemingly out of nowhere and tore into her. She used the dragon magic and held together, and the shadow vanished, unable to overcome her. "Stay where you are!" she called out urgently to the dragons. "It's not safe! These things are everywhere. Keep behind me or Nuada."

The young dragons ignored her entirely. They'd unfurled their gossamer-gold wings by now and took swiftly to the sky, flying - like Icarus, to Elfraine's mind - into the black, Daedalean night. She glanced despairingly after them as they climbed aloft. All she could do was hope the shadow beasts couldn't also somehow fly and that the dragons would be safer up there after all. One of the pitch-black creatures brutally seized her attention as it sliced into her with its weapon. She quickly recovered from both the pain and the wound, and struck back at her assailant. The silver Elven blade bit deep into the shadow creature's neck and it fell to the ground, dead. And then the other creatures were upon her and there was no more time to worry about the dragons as she tried to block and parry as many of the blows raining down on her as she could.

... ...

Nuada swiftly cut down another two of the stygian beasts. They'd been briefly distracted by the sight of the dragons ascending into the darkness but once again, there were only more to take their place. At least the dragons had managed to get away unharmed. He'd noticed them stirring and, like Elfraine, was concerned they might get hurt in the fight raging on around them.

He had half an eye on Elfraine now and was pleased to see she was indeed displaying more skill and adroitness than she had with the Hounds of Odin. Her footwork was nearly perfect and she was light on her feet, moving with a certain grace and style. A faint whisper of memory stirred in his mind at the sight of her dance-like movements, and it struck him that there was something almost... familiar about them.

He sensed a shadow beast behind him and used the pommel of the Silverlance to deliver two short, sharp jabs, one to its abdomen and one to its head, knocking it to the ground instantly. Spinning round, he deflected the blows of the creatures in front of him and fatally sliced the fallen fiend behind him before turning back to meet yet another attack.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Elfraine also seemed to have reasonable enough instincts, anticipating many of the strikes and effectively blocking them. But she was hampered by her all-too-human speed and strength, and was unable to take the offensive. For every blow she parried, twice as many again made it past her guard to killing effect. If she hadn't been immortal, she'd have been a shredded pile of flesh by now. As it was, she must be in a great deal of pain and he felt a flicker of concern, especially when he saw how she was now shimmering fiercely with the strange silvery-white appearance he'd noticed when the first shadow creature attacked her. She hadn't glowed like that when fighting the hounds.

A sweeping strike from a creature to his left almost made it past his guard and he quickly refocused on his own surroundings. He realised that he needed to get over to Elfraine. If they could watch each other's back, they'd be able to deal more efficiently with their relentless assailants. With the shadow creatures pressing in on him from all sides, the problem was to gain enough space in order to cut a swath through them, and so reach her side.

He sensed a movement somewhere in the air high above, and without further warning one of the young dragons dived down, like a deadly, gold-fletched arrow. She eviscerated the shadow beast in front of Nuada with her sharp talons, and then sped back up into the night sky. Close behind her, the other dragon streaked in and shredded yet another of the creatures before he too headed straight back up into the firmament. The whole attack had taken only seconds.

Nuada leapt forward and pressed home the advantage the dragons had given him, cutting down several more of the deadly, black shadows as he fought his way to Elfraine's side. He caught the look of relief in her eyes as he reached her. Without being told, she knew exactly what to do and turned to face the creatures on their left whilst he swung about to face those on the right, and together, they finally began to make some headway against the swarming beasts. Once again, that strange feeling of something approaching familiarity echoed through his mind, like a ripple on the surface of a pond.

Elfraine had been startled by the dragons' attack; she'd never seen them do anything like that before but then again, she supposed, they'd no doubt learnt a thing or two on their nightly hunts over the years. She'd also been glad when Nuada had appeared at her side. The fight, for her at least, had become repetitive and tedious, not to mention exceptionally painful, but they'd now gained the upper hand against the massing shadows and with any luck, it would all be over soon with both the dragons and Nuada no worse for the wear. She, of course, would be fine no matter what, though as she glanced at her shimmering, silvery-white arms, she knew a rare moment of doubt on that score.

Once again, the dragons swooped in from the skies, their tearing talons and teeth ready to destroy yet more shadow beasts. The first one made a successful run but as Nuada had found out earlier, the stygian creatures learnt quickly and the second dragon was not so lucky. Though he hit his target, the shadow creature was ready for him and before it collapsed it seized hold of him, pulling him out of his flight and dashing him to the ground with a sickening thud. Two more of the deadly creatures leapt over the black form of their slain companion and immediately fell upon the young dragon, cutting and stabbing at him with their lethal, glittering blades. He shrieked out, a terrible cry of pain, and Elfraine's heart nearly stopped.

"No!" she screamed. Without thinking, she ran towards him, slashing out wildly at anything that stood in her way and taking excruciating pain upon herself as she crashed through shadow beasts - and death, six times - to cover the distance to the wounded dragon.

Nuada had no option but to follow closely in her wake, covering her back and fighting a rearguard action all the way. In her desperate dash to the fallen dragon, Elfraine had disposed of nearly half the remaining shadows, including the two who were attacking the young creature, and he now took care of the rest. The other dragon had returned by this time and she sat on the balcony beside the prostrate form of her fallen brother, utterly distraught.

Elfraine was just as upset. She stood over the wounded creature for a moment and looked down in shocked denial. They'd been with her for nearly four hundred years, almost since birth, and she couldn't believe that one of them was about to come to such an end. She knelt beside the dying young dragon, her hands fluttering helplessly over his torn and bleeding body. His breathing was shallow and uneven, and his brilliant, emerald-green eyes grew dull as death approached. Spasms of pain racked his body and he kicked weakly against the terrace beneath him. Elfraine saw the look of pleading desperation and fear in his eyes. It was a look such as her daughter had given her the night she died.

"Can you not do anything?" she asked, desperately looking up at Nuada. Her eyes filled with tears, and pain twisted her features as grief squeezed hard on her heart.

"No, I cannot," he replied, his voice harsh with regret. He could see immediately that the dragon was beyond help and his own heart was suddenly heavy at the sight. "I am not a healer but even if I were, his wounds are too serious. The best I can do is use the bond of our magic to help ease his passing."

So saying, Nuada knelt down next to Elfraine, beside the dying creature. He reached out and placed his hands over the young dragon's heart, heedless of the thick, shimmering, golden blood that welled up out of the open wounds and flowed over his arms. It seeped under his nails and covered his pale, white skin like wet, glistening gilt. He looked down into eyes of malachite green and was swamped by a wave of almost unbearable sadness. Was it really only three days ago he had stood on this balcony, in the crisp, clear light of the dawning day, and known a stirring of long-forgotten hope as he'd made the discovery that dragons still lived in the world? And now the world was about to lose one of those wondrous creatures, and Nuada was weighed down by that awful knowledge.

The other dragon nudged her brother's face with her muzzle then reared up and threw her head back, letting out a high-pitched wail of such raw sorrow and grief that it tore at the hearts of the elf and the human who sat alongside her dying brother.

Nuada knew it was time. As he felt the slowing pulse of life in the young dragon, he called upon the heart of his magic - the gossamer threads of light woven into Eternity - and started to ease the dying creature's pain through the bond they shared.

Elfraine could hardly bear the agony of her own grief; she threw her arms around the dragon and buried her face in his neck, determined to hold onto him to the end. And in a reaction to the agonising pain which consumed her – a reaction which had become instinctive after almost four hundred years – she pushed through with her own dragon magic... and suddenly found herself burning in a furnace of blazing, white light that was surely hotter than the heart of any sun.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Riot act: an English law, enacted in 1715, providing that if 12 or more people unlawfully assemble and disturb the public peace, they must disperse upon proclamation or be considered guilty of felony. To _read someone the riot act_ means to warn or reprimand them forcefully.

Daedalean: impenetrable, unfathomable, complex. See Daedalus (Greek myth) - Athenian architect/inventor who built the labyrinth for King Minos of Crete. He made wings of wax and feathers for himself and his son, Icarus, to flee the island after Minos imprisoned them in the labyrinth along with the Minotaur, for whom the maze was originally built. Icarus ignored his father's warning and flew too close to the sun. The wax in his wings melted and he fell into the sea and drowned.


	37. Chapter 36

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 36**

The shimmering effect which presaged the dragon magic at work in Elfraine had just registered on the periphery of Nuada's vision when, without warning, a cataclysmic torrent of white-gold light and magic ripped into his body and tore through the very fabric of his being. He arched up instinctively as it seized hold of his own Fae power and entwined him in a vast web of enchantment, its sublime and transcendent beauty piercing him to the core. His hands were stuck fast to the young dragon's blood-drenched chest in an unbreakable bond of magic, and all he could do was surrender to the blazing torrent and ride it out. There was such a force of... _life_ around him as he'd never before known and then as suddenly as it had hit him, the cataclysm ceased and he fell backwards.

He was shaken to the marrow of his bones, and a momentary confusion beset him; he felt as if the four winds of the earth had just blown him around all four corners of the earth. But though he had never felt so vitally alive, Nuada was left with a vague, nagging sense that something was... missing. As he regained his senses and knelt back up again, he looked at Elfraine and the wounded dragon. She was still clinging to the young creature's neck, her hair covering her face and spilling over her shoulders in a tumble of deep-brown waves that seemed alive with glinting threads of white-gold light, and he realised with a start that somehow, he'd felt her presence with him in the amaranthine web of magic. To his further astonishment, emerald-green eyes, which only moments before had been dimmed by the dull sheen of death, now looked up at him with bright interest and the dragon started to move, trying to get out from under Elfraine.

Brushing aside her hair, Nuada placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. "Lady, look," he said in a low voice filled with wonder, as he stared at the young dragon. He noticed the wounds on the creature's body had completely disappeared, much as Elfraine's wounds disappeared whenever she sustained an injury. His eyes narrowed. The dragon before him was far too young to have survived such a fatal wounding. Only a dragon at the height of its powers could have done such a thing. Either that, or...

Struck by a sudden thought, he glanced down sharply at Elfraine only to be brought up short. She was still lying prostrate over the dragon's neck and he realised she was not moving. A feeling of apprehension licked through him as he quickly rolled her over and eased her onto her back. The young dragon sprang up and skittered away briefly before returning with his sister to peer down at Elfraine's supine form. They nudged her with their noses but she just lay there, unmoving. A wild tumble of curls fell about her face and, with her eyes closed and her long, dark lashes fanning out over porcelain-pale skin, she looked like a beautiful, sleeping doll.

Nuada searched urgently for signs of life and was relieved to see the rise and fall of her chest though it was shallower than he would have liked. He placed one of his hands over her heart and the other along her neck, and was reassured to feel the pulse of life still strong within her. Apparently she'd only fainted, and if she'd felt but a fraction of what he just had, then it was little wonder. Whereas he was born of magic, she was not and if _he_ had been shaken by... whatever it was they'd just shared then he could only imagine how it had affected _her_.

Sharp eyes of dark gold looked out on the impenetrable blackness surrounding them. The usual glare from the human street lights was noticeably absent, and the only illumination was coming from the carriage lamps on either side of the balcony doors. As well, the roads below, usually so full of the harsh, discordant sounds of humans scurrying to and fro, were strangely silent. Though the darkness no longer appeared to harbour any more shadow creatures, it occurred to Nuada that they'd be better off inside. He could fortify the room with a stronghold charm, similar to the magic concealing and protecting the Troll Market. It should keep out anything that might still be lurking in the inky blackness of the night, for a while at least, and give Elfraine time to recover. And once she'd recovered, she could answer some questions about what had just happened... because he had no doubt that what had just happened was entirely down to her.

He hooked one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders, and lifted her effortlessly but a sudden stab of pain in his leg reminded him of his own injury; he would have to look to that later. The previously-wounded dragon picked up the Silverlance in his mouth whilst his sister picked up Nuada's sword, and they followed the Elven prince inside.

Nuada laid Elfraine on the couch and then quickly crossed back over to the door. He closed it and passed his hands over the wooden frame and glass, infusing them with a magic which strengthened their innate properties and afforded some protection against any occult force that might seek to breach the bulwark. After doing the same to the windows and walls, he returned to Elfraine and knelt down beside her. The wound on his leg suddenly flared in another biting paroxysm of pain but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. He could still walk on it and besides, he'd suffered worse in his time.

Adjusting his leg so the wound did not pull unnecessarily, he gave Elfraine a gentle shake. "Lady Wylde," he said softly. She remained unresponsive. He shook her a bit harder and spoke more loudly but still she didn't stir. Several more attempts at rousing her only met with the same result: nothing.

Leaning back, Nuada frowned at her. She showed no sign whatsoever of recovering and he was fairly certain this was not normal for her. He had a good idea by now of what had just happened and they didn't have time to let things run their natural course. Stronger measures were obviously required and if he was right, there was only one sure way to recall her to her senses. But he was utterly loath to do it... because it meant he would have to say her name - her given name... Elfraine... or Elf Queen.

He struggled fiercely with the idea as he looked at her unmoving form, and cast about all the corners of his mind, trying to find some other way which did not involve having to go to such galling lengths. But if, as he suspected, she was in the thrall of magic, then he had to face the unpalatable fact that it was the only thing he could do... for his sister's sake. Still, at least there would be no one to witness his degradation, he thought, taking what little comfort he could from that until he remembered the dragons. He swore softly as he half-turned his head and shot them a look. They were sitting a little way behind him, to one side, and watching on with great interest... and right next to them, and just as interested, was that ginger-furred anathema called Goblin. Scowling fiercely, Nuada swung his gaze back to Elfraine and set about the distasteful task.

Leaning over her, he covered one of her smooth, pale cheeks with the palm of his hand and ran his thumb lightly over her soft, dusky pink lips before catching at the bottom one and gently pulling it down, parting her mouth a little further to allow him better access to do what he had to. Then he called upon his Elven magic and bent his head until his dark lips were only a whisper away from hers. With his broad shoulders and the long fall of his pale, gilt-tipped hair shutting out the curious gaze of their audience, Nuada gave Elfraine his breath, threaded now with the white-gold light of his magic, and said her name with steely determination.

"Elfraine." His voice was low and deep, and it reverberated with a feeling which caught him totally unawares. He couldn't understand it... not in any way. It was almost as if he'd been waiting forever to say her name... and yet it was practically the last thing in the world he wanted to say. He paused for a moment, knocked off centre, but quickly recovered and completed the act, summoning her breath to him - and with it, her consciousness - before saying her name once more. And as he drew out her breath, it sparkled and shimmered with flecks of sunlight which escaped up into the air. The evanescent motes settled on his hair, turning it, for the briefest instant, into a glistening waterfall of sun-dappled silver before vanishing.

Magic clung to Elfraine like an ethereal veil, its delicate scent and celestial harmony delighting his senses, and Nuada was utterly beguiled. Given the dragon magic in her, he supposed it should have come as no surprise and yet somehow, it did. And though it formed no part of the enchantment he worked, he closed the almost imperceptible distance between them and brushed her lips gently with his own, a feather-light touch of firm flesh and a warm whisper of breath. He could taste the fading traces of magic on her along with everything else about her which was familiar to him by now - her warmth, her light and her joy - and as he deepened the kiss and savoured the feeling that washed through him, he might have mused on just who was working the enchantment.

Suddenly, the subtle spell was shattered. Elfraine moved, reaching up for him, and Nuada broke off the kiss, startled. For the second time that night he was left feeling shaken but he had no time to meditate on what had happened. Her eyelids fluttered open and he found himself looking into deep, shimmering pools of amber brown, agleam with myriad flecks of antique gold. He watched, fascinated, as the magic released her from its thrall and the golden glow in her eyes slowly faded.

... ...

Elfraine had been aflame in the incandescent heart of a brilliant, blazing sun but a voice set her name to echoing through the furnace, and though it had been a sublime and beautiful sun, and the fire everything she'd ever wanted, yet the voice compelled her. It summoned her by name, its low, husky timbre vibrating through every fibre of her being, and pulled her away from the burning star to lay her down in the middle of a heavenly dream in which Nuada was slowly kissing her awake. .. and suddenly, _that_ was everything she'd ever wanted. After some moments, she reached up to touch his face and hair only to have her reverie rudely interrupted as he abruptly stopped kissing her and she fell from Heaven with a nasty jolt. Elfraine opened her eyes to find his lean, chiselled features only inches away from her face, filling her vision, and she knew a feeling of sharp relief. The fall of his hair brushed softly against her cheek and he was staring at her intently, his own golden eyes banked with the fierce fire of the sun she'd so recently been ablaze in. He was leaning over her, and as the heat from his body burned into her and she breathed in the warm, earthy scent of him, it seemed she hadn't fallen so very far from Heaven after all.

Elfraine was about to reach up for Nuada again, when a sudden wave of nausea briefly overtook her. "Wh-what happened?" she asked unsteadily, dazed by the unaccustomed feeling and more than a little disconcerted both by her strange fancies and his intense regard. All of a sudden, memory returned in a brutal rush. "Poppet!" she cried out as she struggled to push herself up.

Nuada pulled back in surprise. Surely she was not calling _him_ 'Poppet'... and why was she suddenly so upset? There was a movement to his right and the dragon who'd been wounded rushed forward and nuzzled Elfraine.

She threw her arms around the young creature's neck and reached up to hug him, wincing slightly as his hard scales bit into her soft skin. "Oh! You're alive!" she exclaimed; the surprise and relief was clear in her voice.

The reason for her momentary distress suddenly became apparent but a nasty suspicion started to form in Nuada's mind as to the other... though if he was honest with himself, he was glad to be distracted from the perplexing riddle of what they'd just shared, both out on the balcony and here now on the couch. While he had no doubts about the searing, sensual pleasure and bone-deep satisfaction he'd taken in the joining of their bodies earlier, he was thrown totally off balance by the sublime and intimate connection they'd just shared through the two acts of magic, a connection which left him with both a strange ache and a feeling of great ambivalence.

"Poppet?" he enquired icily now, the word fair freezing on his tongue as he sought refuge from his uncertainty.

"Yes," replied Elfraine. She was still groggy and disconcerted, and wasn't thinking clearly otherwise she would have taken note of his chilly tone. "Mistress Moppet and Master Poppet. As I believe I've already told you, I don't know their true names – and even if I did, I couldn't use them – so that's what I call them," she explained, confirming his nasty suspicion. She gave the young dragon one last hug and released him. Another wave of nausea washed over her and she fell back on the couch, shutting her eyes against the long-forgotten feeling.

Nuada turned his head and watched grimly as _Poppet_ ran back to his sister, an expression of distaste marring the Elven prince's hard, handsome features. He swung back to Elfraine with an accusing glare. "By the Gods, they are _dragons_," he bit out, "not... not _babies_ or _dolls_! If you had to call them anything, then surely you could have chosen more... _fitting_ names."

Elfraine squinted at him through one eye and decided that, heavenly kisses notwithstanding, she didn't like the expression on his face. His head was tilted to one side and he was looking at her with those golden eyes of his as if she were the strangest specimen of life he'd ever seen. It struck her, rather belatedly, that he was annoyed with her and she thought she knew why. "Ohhh," she moaned, half in protest at the sick feeling in her body and half in dismay at her slip of the tongue. She'd anticipated his disapproval of the endearments she used for the dragons, and hadn't meant to ever let him know about them. She could only put her lapse down to the unfamiliar nausea besetting her.

"Yes, but they were _baby_ dragons when I found them," she informed him, aiming for a tone of condescending superbity and falling far short as another wave of nausea racked her body. To her own ears, she merely sounded pitiful. And from the look on his face, that was how she obviously sounded to him too. "Well, I had to call them _something_," she muttered defensively. "And besides, they don't mind the names."

A sudden chattering from behind him told Nuada that the dragons were indeed perfectly happy with their sobriquets. Swinging his head around, he regarded them for a moment with a frown on his face. He had no intention of arguing about it now, but they _were_ going to have to settle on something else in due course; if he was to have the care of them, he was _not_ going to call them _Poppet _and_ Moppet_. "Very well then," he said, with a final stern look at both Elfraine and the dragons. "We will leave the matter there... for the present."

"Ah yes, your 'later' list," murmured Elfraine.

That earned her a sharp glance but before Nuada could say anything, she was overcome with dizziness and distracted him from his dark thoughts about what dragons should and _shouldn't_ be called.

"Oh, God's Blood! What is wrong with me?" she groaned. "What... what happened?"

"I was about to ask that question of _you_," Nuada replied. "What did you do out there?" he asked, with a brief nod in the direction of the terrace.

"_Me_?" exclaimed Elfraine. She tried to push herself up on her elbows once more and succeeded this time. She thought she might be starting to feel better. "I... I did nothing! Well... I... that is to say... I did what I always do," she replied, furrowing her brow in bewilderment as it struck her that things had _not_ gone as they usually did when she used the dragon magic. "But I had no thought of doing it," she added quickly. "It - it just did it itself... and nothing like this has ever happened before. For a start, I wasn't physically injured, and... I - I had the strangest dreams... and I've never come out of the magic feeling so awful!"

So, it was unintentional and she had no idea what she'd just done, or rather, what _they_ had just done... _together_, thought Nuada as he ran his eyes over her. She was looking a bit steadier and he moved back slightly to allow her to sit up properly.

She swung her legs over the side of the couch and sat so that she was now at eye-level with him. "Do _you_ know what happened?" she asked. She looked into his face and winced as another wave of dizziness and nausea took her by surprise. So much for feeling better. "Ohhh," she wailed, as she pressed a hand to her forehead. "I haven't felt this... this _sick_ in four hundred years! I don't like it!"

Nuada arched a brow at her. "You have been ripped to shreds by the Hounds of Odin and you have just taken more killing blows from those... shadow creatures than I could keep count of, and all without a word of complaint. And yet here you are now, making a great deal of noise simply because you feel a little... nauseous," he observed, bitingly.

Elfraine scowled at him as she held her head in her hands. He wasn't being in the least bit sympathetic and she was beginning to form her own theory as to what had happened outside on the terrace. Her reaction out there had been entirely instinctive, and she strongly suspected she felt so terrible now because there'd also been a certain Elven prince hanging onto the wounded dragon at the time... and it was somehow all _his_ fault. Nuada's next words only seemed to confirm her suspicion.

"The sickness will pass shortly," he informed her, coolly. He paused for a moment, obviously reluctant to continue. "Between the... the _two_ of us, we have just worked one of the great feats of magic," he explained grudgingly. "We... joined together in the heart of magic and pulled the dragon back from the brink of death."

"Well, you needn't sound so pleased about it!" muttered Elfraine sarcastically.

Nuada wasn't exactly in the best of moods, thanks to his disquiet over what had just happened, and her tone set a match to his already-smouldering temper. "Forgive me, Lady Wylde. I did not think to ever find myself working such a feat of magic with a _human_," he retorted, snidely.

"Then one might wonder why you ever did such a thing in the first place, _Your Highness_," shot back Elfraine, now convinced he was to blame for her sickness. "And it's not the only thing you've done with a human recently, either," she reminded him, with a narrow look. "You didn't seem overly upset about _that_ as I recall!"

Nuada swiftly leaned in close and placed his hands against the backrest of the couch on either side of her head, trapping her between his arms and crowding her uncomfortably. "I believe I had little choice in the matter of the dragon, milady. You seized hold of the reins, as it were, and would not let go," he snapped. He wisely ignored her other charge.

"Well, I'm sure _Poppet_ is most relieved that I did," she snapped back, saying the dragon's name with great relish and more than willing to take credit for the whole thing if it meant she could claim the moral high ground.

His lips compressed into a thin line of annoyance; she had him there. He inclined his head stiffly in acknowledgement of her point and pulled back slightly. "Indeed, as am I," he admitted tersely.

"In fact, had I not _seized hold of the reins_, you would have allowed Poppet to die!" continued Elfraine, in full flight now and rather ungraciously determined to press home her advantage for all it was worth. "You were merely going to _ease his passing_! Thanks to _me_ there are still at least two dragons in this world. Had it been left to _you_ there'd be..."

A muscle in the side of his jaw twitched dangerously and Nuada swiftly pressed a hard, white finger to Elfraine's lips, cutting off her words and giving her a sharp look of warning.

She finished her sentence anyway. "Only one!" she rushed on.

Anger flared hot and bright in his eyes. He clamped his hand over her mouth and leaned in close again. "_Be quiet_!" he hissed in her ear. Taking a deep breath, he tried to rein in his temper however she grabbed hold of his wrist and attempted, unsuccessfully, to wrest his hand away from her mouth. He took another deep breath and pulled back slightly but all he saw was a pair of big brown eyes staring defiantly at him and he had to take another breath... and then another one. He might still have succeeded in mastering his temper but he felt her mouth move against his hand and then, unbelievably, she bit him! For the briefest moment, he stared at her with stunned incredulity, and then incandescent rage took over and Nuada did the only thing he could think of; he seized her by the arms, hauled her up against his chest, and proceeded to kiss every thought but him out of her head.

When he finally tore his mouth away from hers, he noted with grim satisfaction the dazed, misty look in her eyes, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. "Don't _ever_ do that again," he ordered tersely, half-panting as he struggled to bring his own breathing back under control.

"I... I won't," murmured Elfraine breathlessly before lapsing into distracted silence as she stared dreamily at his lips. She didn't even notice that she was no longer feeling sick.

Her response was everything Nuada could wish for. His temper was quickly assuaged and a triumphant smirk spread across his face.

Elfraine snapped out of her smitten trance at the sight of it. "So long as I am not pushed to my limits again," she added acerbically.

His smug expression rapidly disappeared. She was... impossible! It was obviously time to set right some of the misconceptions she appeared to have about the whole episode out on the terrace. "I do not, as a rule, explain myself," he began, in a measured tone. "But I will make an exception in this instance, if only to lay the matter to rest once and for all. Had I known we could save Pop... " With a sharp intake of breath, and an even sharper look at Elfraine, he stopped just in time and corrected himself. "Had I known we could save the _dragon_," he enunciated, "I would have done so without hesitation. However, I did not know and in any event, I have never performed such a feat before. To do so requires the magic of one of the great dragons of the earth and by the time I was old enough and skilled enough for such work, there were no more great dragons left in this world. There were only the younger ones, and they, of course, were all eventually exterminated by _your_ kind."

He hesitated for a moment and gave her a questioning look before continuing on, less certain of his facts now. "You must have something more than the gift of immortality. It is the only explanation that makes any sense. You are the likely catalyst for what happened on the balcony, though the Gods only know how we managed the thing if neither of us had any idea what we were about." He frowned in thought. "It may be too that the dragon's own nascent magic played a part."

Elfraine opened her mouth and drew breath to speak but Nuada hadn't finished yet. "_As_ to your feeling sick," he continued on, overriding her attempt to say something and sounding ever so slightly condescending to her ears. "From what I have heard of such matters, it is only to be expected. It was also _your_ first time performing such a deed and you are not born of magic. Should you ever do such a thing again, I believe it will go easier with you."

He paused and before he could add to his words, Elfraine leapt in to have her say. "So, it was virgin territory for _both_ of us then," she observed quickly, with a look of wide-eyed innocence.

Nuada's eyes narrowed and his grip on her arms tightened fractionally.

"No wonder you're so overset," she continued on blithely. "I trust that now _you're_ also, ah, broken in as it were, it will go easier with you as well next time, though we can take things slowly... if you're still a bit jittery about it all."

His fingers dug painfully into her arms and Elfraine was skewered by a pair of sharp, auriferous eyes as her words fanned his temper once more. She had to bite the inside of her mouth to stop herself from laughing at his baleful look of masculine pique, though she couldn't quite keep the gleam of amusement out of her eyes.

"There will not be a _next time_," he told her in no uncertain terms.

"If you say so, sweeting," she replied nonchalantly, as she chucked him under the chin and winked at him. Taking quick advantage of his fuming silence, she shrugged his hands off her arms and pushed herself up off the couch.

Her action forced Nuada to stand as well and take a step backwards. A shadow of pain flickered across his face as his wounded leg protested the unexpected move, and Elfraine suddenly recalled his injury.

"Oh, Nuada! Your leg! I'm so sorry to tease you when you're hurt," she exclaimed. "Here, sit down and let me have a look at it." She moved aside so he could take a seat.

There was no doubting the concern in her voice, and it effectively doused the last smouldering embers of his temper.

He took a seat on the couch and leaned back to look up at her. "If you bring me water and a cloth, I will see to it, thank you," he said.

"I'll certainly get water and a cloth," she replied, walking over to the kitchen sink. "But please, let me tend to you. I do have some experience seeing to injuries," she assured him, as she filled a large bowl with water.

"But not _recent_ experience, I take it," he remarked, dryly.

Elfraine immediately recognised his oblique reference to the dragon magic. "Not in respect of myself, no," she replied, with a small laugh. She walked back to the couch and put the bowl of water and a clean, damp cloth, down on the coffee table before heading for the bathroom. Pausing at the door, she turned back to explain. "I did, of course, have some... basic experience prior to 1615. In those days we had to _shift for ourselves_ in matters medical. And then in 1915, when I was back in Turkey – to visit the memorial of a... a good friend, and the grave of her young son... to pay my respects to them before heading up to Greece - I met..." She paused as two memories entwined and cast a brief shadow on her heart. "I met a medic from the Antipodes. He... he was stationed with the Australian Army Medical Corps, at Gallipoli, and he taught me more about the science of Hippocrates than I ever wished to know."

Shaking off her melancholy thoughts, she slid Nuada a sideways look. "You'll be pleased to learn that I've polished up my hard-learnt doctoring skills in recent times by practicing on Goblin. It seems he gets into a fight just about every other evening," she added, before quickly disappearing into the bathroom.

Nuada was not at all pleased to learn that her most recent experience involved patching up a _cat_, and he shot the irascible feline in question a dark look. It didn't surprise him at all though to hear that the fractious creature got himself into trouble as often as he did.

Elfraine came back out of the bathroom carrying a first aid kit under her arm and drying her hands on a towel. She returned to the couch and put her supplies on the seat beside Nuada, and then knelt down before him. After pushing back the severed edges of his pants, she inspected the wound on his thigh. Thick, dark-gold blood congealed along the length of the laceration, and she quickly and gently washed it away with the damp cloth. Nuada's hiss of indrawn breath told her that for all her care, it still pained him. After she'd cleaned up the injury, she could see it wasn't serious but it was nasty enough and would still require stitching, which was never pleasant for the person being patched up. At least it was a clean cut and would be easy enough to sew shut. A sudden thought struck her and she gave him a considering look. "I wonder... could we fix it in the same way as we fixed Poppet, do you think?"

"No, I do _not_ think so," he replied in a tone that brooked no argument.

There was a moment of startled silence. "Well... well... fie on you then!" she spluttered at last, arguing anyway. "I know you said there'd be _no next time_ but I can't believe you'd be so stubborn as to cut off your nose to spite your face."

"That is not the case at all," he answered, with a sharp edge to his voice. "If it were a matter of life and death, then I would, of course, take whatever measures were necessary but..." He stopped abruptly. "_What_, by Aiglin, are you doing?" he asked impatiently as he looked down at Elfraine. She'd placed her hands gently on either side of the wound and was staring at it, her brow furrowed with intense concentration.

"Seizing the reins, as it were," she replied, "or at least, trying to. You're going to need stitches, you know, and fixing it this way will obviate the need for that _and_ spare you the discomfort." She frowned even more fiercely. "Why is this not working? Perhaps if you were a bit more cooperative..."

Nuada raised a brow at that but let it go. "So, you cannot summon the dragon magic at will then," he murmured thoughtfully.

"No, it would seem not," she conceded peevishly, as her efforts failed yet again.

"No doubt because you are human," he theorised, sounding, once again, more than a little condescending to Elfraine's ears. "It must come forth only when you are in immediate danger or in pain... or under great stress," he added, as he thought of how she'd reacted when the young dragon had been fatally wounded.

"Well, that's no bloody use then, is it!" she muttered. "At least, not to you. I only wished to spare you the unpleasantness of being stitched back together again."

Leaning forward, Nuada took hold of her chin and raised her face so that she was looking up at him. He winced slightly as the wound pulled painfully. "Do not fret about it, Lady. Your desire to spare me any discomfort is appreciated but you could be an Elven healer and I would still not permit you to use magic to help things along. I prefer to let minor wounds heal of their own accord, with only such _physical_ intervention as is absolutely necessary."

"Why ever would you want to do that?" Elfraine asked, more than a little puzzled.

"Because it might serve as a reminder not to be so careless next time," he replied succinctly.

"Oh," she murmured. There was a brief pause as she digested that piece of information. "I... I see... And do you remember... to be more careful?" she asked curiously.

Nuada gave a wry smile. "For the most part I do, though it's a lesson that obviously bears repeating every now and again. And now, if you'd be so good as to sew me up..." He released her and leaned back against the couch once more.

"Of course," she replied, giving him a soft smile. On impulse, she stood up and leaned over to drop a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'll be as careful as I can. For all that _you_ can find a purpose in it, I don't like the thought of adding to your pain in any way."

A warm feeling washed through him at her words and something lurched in his chest. He reached up and caught her head, burying his hands in her hair and holding her in place as he leaned forward. "You won't... at least, no more than I can bear," he murmured against her lips before taking her mouth in a warm kiss that was over far too soon for the liking of either of them.

Elfraine grasped his wrists and leaned her forehead against his, taking a deep breath. "Well, I... I'd best make a start," she whispered.

"Yes," he agreed softly, as he slowly let her go.

She sank back down to the floor, sitting between his legs as he leaned back in the couch. Reaching over his good leg, she retrieved the first aid kit and set it down beside her. Half-turning, she opened up the box and took out a pack of sterile needles and nylon thread. "I'll see if I can't make a neater job of sewing up this wound than has been made with some of your previous injuries," she remarked casually as she threaded the needle.

"By all means, do your best," replied Nuada, "but I am not overly concerned with appearances. So long as it holds together, that is all I ask."

"I can promise you it will hold," Elfraine assured him. She tied a knot in the thread and turned back to him.

He'd pulled down one side of his shirt and was examining a particularly nasty-looking scar on his shoulder. "Mr Wink was certainly no tailor," he murmured.

"Mr Wink?" she inquired, pushing aside the torn edges of his pants once more.

"He... he was a good friend. He saw to a great number of my wounds over the years," explained Nuada quietly, pulling his shirt back up.

Elfraine raised her eyes to his face. She guessed from his tone and words that Mr Wink could no longer be counted amongst the living. "So, your scars are not just badges of honour then but also memories of a friend's care for you," she observed softly, before turning her attention back to his wound.

Nuada looked down at her bent head. "I suppose they are. I hadn't thought to consider them in that light," he murmured.

"Hmmm." Elfraine carefully held the edges of the wound together. She flashed him an apologetic look and then started stitching.

Nuada gritted his teeth as the needle pierced his skin and leaned his head back against the couch, waiting for the sharp pinch of the next stitch. But Elfraine started talking again and distracted him from her ministrations.

"It's more than simply the means to an end with you, isn't it," she said, without prelude.

"What?" he asked, as he looked down at her again. He was mystified as to what she could possibly be on about now.

"Fighting," she answered.

He shook his head. "I still do not take your meaning," he said, as puzzled as ever.

Elfraine smiled up briefly at him before continuing with her stitching. "You raise it above its mundane and pedestrian purpose, and take it into another realm altogether," she explained. "You make almost an art form of it. When I watched you out on the terrace before, I could see that divine spark of... oh, I don't know." She stopped sewing for a moment as she considered the word she was searching for. "I'm not sure 'creativity' is quite the right thing to call it, given that anyone on the wrong end of your weapon surely faces imminent destruction." She gave him a wry look before resuming her sewing. "Perhaps 'brilliance' is a better word to use in respect of the art of combat. Yes, that's it," she decided, happy now with her choice. "You have that divine spark of brilliance - or ability, if you will - which so few do, wherever their talents may lie."

"You are in danger of turning my head with your lavish, and surely undeserved, praise, Lady," he disavowed.

"I would not have counted modesty amongst your virtues, Your Highness," she said, giving him a teasing look from under her lashes. "Sit back Nuada, and allow me to wax lyrical over you for a little while. It may not happen again."

"Very well then," he agreed, with a lazy smile. "Heap your accolades upon me if you must. I'll not naysay you."

"Once again, you are too kind. You see how easily it becomes a habit if practiced enough," she counselled mischievously. "No. For the likes of me, and indeed, for most of the world, fighting is simply a means to an end. Some might actually become quite adept in the discipline but nevertheless, they still remain utilitarian practitioners. For the likes of you though, it goes beyond that. It's a passion... something which speaks to your soul and which must find expression in return. It involves every part of your being, and you know it intimately and naturally... in a way which few others do. And it's that special, innate knowledge which gives you a hand up to the pinnacle of attainment, and which allows you to lift your art out of the ordinary as you strive to be the best you can possibly be."

"I do always endeavour to be the best that I can," Nuada agreed, surprised by her insight. "But I would hardly say I've reached the pinnacle of attainment in respect of my efforts. It seems there is always something to improve upon."

"I suppose it's in the nature of genius to keep your eye fixed on the peak and never look down to see how far you've come," Elfraine mused. "You may take it from me that you quite cast the rest of us in the shade with your skill, and such things as you feel you have to improve upon must surely be nothing more than mere trifles."

"You have some experience in such matters?" he asked, as he arched a brow.

"I do," she affirmed, confidently.

"I see," he remarked dryly, thinking she talked about herself. "And where does your particular 'genius' lie?"

"Me?" she exclaimed in surprise. "Good God, no. I don't lay claim to genius of any sort. No, I merely speak as one who has been privileged to witness great talent twice before in my life."

"Oh?" he inquired, skeptically.

"Yes," she replied, emphatically. "Messrs Shakespeare and Bach... Johann Sebastian, that is."

"Ah yes, your beloved playwright and... who was that other one? A musician of some sort wasn't he," remarked Nuada, sounding supremely unimpressed.

"A musician, certainly, but first and foremost, a composer," corrected Elfraine, a little testily. "And only the best that ever lived."

"That is debatable," he countered. In reality, he had no intention of ever engaging in such a debate, and he most certainly wasn't going to tell her he'd actually met the composer, in the spring of 1718 when he'd been forced to endure the hospitality of some German prince, of the House of Ascania, in order to run another human to ground: a human who'd committed the vilest of crimes against some of the youngest and most defenceless of the Fae. "And I would most certainly argue against being lumped in alongside two _humans,_" he said resolutely instead.

"Nonsense!" she exclaimed, hiding a smile. "You are in very good company so you needn't turn your nose up at the comparison. But if you don't like it, by all means think of those of your own kind in whom such genius resides... and feel free to lump yourself in alongside them instead. And now, I think we're all finished here," she noted, quickly tying off the thread.

Nuada's eyes narrowed at her words but as he looked down at the neat line of stitches which now held his wound together, he decided it would be churlish to take her to task. "It would seem you do have a genius of your own, after all," he remarked.

Elfraine laughed at that. "Please don't tell me it lies in sewing. I cannot think of a more disheartening thing, unless perhaps it's cooking!"

"I was not going to say sewing," he assured her. "While you are certainly a very capable seamstress, your genius would appear to lie in the art of distraction. I felt the first stitch go in, and then you started talking and after that I barely felt a thing."

"Well, I suppose it's a step up from sewing," said Elfraine, with a rueful smile. "You'll have to be careful of those stitches for a week or two," she warned him. "Then after that, they can come out."

"They can come out in a day or two," Nuada corrected. "The Fae heal more rapidly than humans," he explained quickly as she opened her mouth to argue the point.

"Oh! That's certainly an advantage," she remarked instead.

"But not so much of an advantage as you have," he murmured.

"No," she agreed, with a grin. "Now, if you're happy with my handiwork on your leg, I'll tack these edges together next," she offered, gesturing to the tear in his pants.

"Thank you," he murmured.

She started to put tacking stitches along the torn edges, and spoke again as she did so. "I've only ever met two others who possessed a similar innate gift as you for the arts of Mars, though you still stand head and shoulders above them. My cousin Hal was one."

"A _human_," Nuada sneered dismissively.

At their words, Goblin, who'd been sitting quietly by the dragons, sprang up on all four paws and arched his back, his fur standing on end. He hissed threateningly at Nuada and in return, the Elven prince pinned the surly cat with a malevolent look.

"Yes, a _human_... obviously," agreed Elfraine, rolling her eyes at Nuada's altogether predictable reaction. "And the other was a Jiniri."

Nuada tore his gaze away from Goblin.

"Surely you could not object to _her_. I met her in Constantinople, not long after I discovered I was immortal," continued Elfraine.

Nuada looked down sharply at her. She had his full attention now.

"I only knew her for a little under six months but she was one of the best friends I ever had." A wistful note crept into Elfraine's voice as she spoke. "Amongst the many things I have to thank her for is the fact that I recognised the Varangian sword in the BPRD armoury the other day... the one which your sister used to such good effect against the shadow creature that attacked her."

A strange feeling of... anticipation, almost, was slowly clawing its way up through Nuada's gut now, and he tensed as Elfraine continued speaking.

"My friend had such a sword, and to say she knew how to use it would be an understatement. Had you ever seen her fight with it, you would not be able to dismiss her as easily as you do poor, dear Hal. Though, of course, with her _not_ being human, I'm sure you would have thought favourably of her from the outset... just as I'm sure that if Hal wasn't human, you would have probably quite liked him too," she added, placing the last stitch in the now-mended tear and then tying off the thread. She pulled back to inspect her handiwork with a critical eye, drawing breath to speak again as she did so.

The whisper of memory that had stirred in Nuada's mind when he watched Elfraine fight out on the terrace was now fairly clamouring in his head, and he found he couldn't even take issue with her assertion that he might have liked her cousin. He could only stare at her and let the inexorable flow of her words wash over him.

"She was the one who taught me how to fight, you know, though you shouldn't attempt to judge _her_ skills by _my_ poor application," Elfraine continued, looking back up at Nuada with a self-deprecatory smile.

And at her words, the tide of remembrance burst through in full flood and he suddenly knew why fighting alongside her had felt so strangely familiar.

Elfraine paused, and a shadow of grief passed over her face as she remembered her friend. "The world became a darker and emptier place the day..."

"The day Dihyā al-Kāhinat died," Nuada broke in quietly, saying the words he'd never said aloud and closing his eyes against the pain it cost him to do so now.

Elfraine froze as even the power of speech abruptly deserted her. She couldn't have torn her eyes away from his face had her life depended on it, and she struggled to comprehend the full import of what he'd just said. After a long moment, she found her tongue again. "You... you knew her!" she whispered, stunned by the incredible coincidence.

Nuada's eyes snapped back open and fixed on Elfraine. "Knew her?" he exclaimed bitterly. A mirthless smile twisted his dark lips as memories of the past pressed in on him. "She was everything to me and I would have done anything for her. I loved Dihyā and would have taken her for my wife but I... I stupidly thought I had other priorities to see to first, and time enough besides, and whilst I was so... so _diligently _employed, death claimed her instead."

Elfraine was taken completely unawares by a swift stab of jealousy and was immediately horrified, and disconcerted, by the petty, selfish feeling. It was quickly replaced with sympathy and compassion as she reacted to the bleak sorrow and savage self-recrimination she heard in his voice. "Oh, Nuada," she said softly as she gently squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry."

Her own memories of her friend crowded in and suddenly, she drew a sharp breath and gripped Nuada's hand even harder, her nails unconsciously digging into his flesh, as one recollection in particular stood out starkly from the rest.

He glanced down at their joined hands and then back to Elfraine's face, and was arrested by the stricken look he beheld there. But before he could say anything, she gazed past his shoulder and started to speak.

""A warrior from out of the West; proud and fair. He moved like the wind, swift and silent when stealth was called for; or raging in full fury when force was needed to carry the day... and always, _always_ delivering justice and retribution for our kind with flashing blades of silver that never missed their mark."" Elfraine dragged her gaze back to Nuada's face and looked into his golden eyes. "And... and he never knew," she whispered cryptically.

There was a moment of silence and then she spoke again, almost reluctantly. "Nuada, though Dihyā never told me your name, I... I think she was talking about you when she said those words to me."

Nuada found he could make no response. There was something about the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice which chilled his blood, and he was gripped by a sudden sense of foreboding.

With a heavy heart, Elfraine pushed herself away from him and stood awkwardly to stare down at him for a moment. Though she would have given almost anything not to be the one to have to do this, there was no putting it off. She walked over to the wooden desk from where she'd retrieved her diaries earlier, looking for all the world as if she was about to mount the scaffold. Opening the top drawer this time, she pulled out an old, gold locket, the chain of which was threaded by a delicate, silver filigree ring.

Nuada stiffened as he recognised the finely-wrought piece of jewellery.

Elfraine carefully undid the locket chain and removed the ring. She then did up the chain's clasp again and placed the locket back in the top drawer. As she returned to the couch, she felt like Atlas standing on the western shores of Gaia and bearing the weight of the celestial spheres on his shoulders.

Stopping in front of Nuada, she held out the ring to him.

He stared at the exquisitely-crafted pattern of Aiglin, the father tree, the gnarled trunk of which was designed to encircle the finger of the wearer. An intricate profusion of foliage flourished all around the heart of the tree, forming an elegant entanglement which belied the delicate fragility of the individual leaves. And as he stared at the ring, Nuada remembered both the day he'd finished making it and the day he'd given it to Dihyā, with such love for her and such renewed hope for the future as he'd never thought to feel again.

"I... I think this might belong to you," Elfraine prompted gently as she continued to hold the ring out to him. "Dihyā gave it to me the day she died."

His eyes flew to hers. "You... you were with her when she died?" he asked, a strange mixture of hope and astonishment threading his voice.

"I was," replied Elfraine.

He shifted his gaze back to the ring and hesitantly took it from her. "I... I made this for her and gave it to her the last time ever I saw her. It was meant to seal my promise that I would return and make her my wife," he said, a bitter hint of self-reproach creeping into his voice once more. He looked back up at Elfraine again. "Would... would you tell me what happened... how she died? When I finally returned to Constantinople to claim her, I learnt she'd been dead for many years and I could find no one able to tell me anything about the circumstances of her death."

Elfraine sank to her knees before him and clasped his hands between hers. "Oh, Nuada! Of course, I'll tell you everything. But before I do, my dear, there's something else you need to know, though I'd give almost anything not to have such terrible tidings for you... for I know it's only going to cause you great pain." She briefly pressed her forehead to their linked hands, as if gathering courage, and then looked up at him.

His feeling of foreboding returned in full force as he saw her fathomless brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and it was as well she had hold of him in some way because at the next words she spoke, every nerve in his body went numb and he felt as if he'd been hurled off the edge of the world.

Speaking softly, Elfraine told him what he would never have known otherwise. "Nuada, Dihyā died avenging the murder of her baby son... the son she bore you almost four hundred years ago."

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**References:**

'Shift for ourselves': appropriation of Sir Thomas More's words as he mounted the scaffold before being beheaded in 1535. ("I pray you, Mr Lieutenant, see me safe up and for my coming down, I can shift for myself.")

Antipodes: the point on the Earth's surface which is diametrically opposite to another given point and can be connected to it by a straight line running through the centre of the Earth. In the United Kingdom, "the Antipodes" is often used to refer to Australia and New Zealand.

Gallipoli Campaign: aka the Dardanelles Campaign or the Battle of Çanakkale (25 April 1915 – 9 January 1916, during World War I). The campaign was a failed attempt by joint British/French forces to capture the Ottoman (Turkish) capital of Constantinople (Istanbul) and secure a sea route to Russia, and there were heavy casualties on both sides. The campaign was considered one of the greatest victories of the Turks and a major failure of the Allies, and it resonated profoundly for all nations involved. In Turkey, the battle is perceived as a defining moment in the history of the Turkish people. It was also the first major battle undertaken in the war by Australia and New Zealand, and is often considered to mark the birth of national consciousness in both of these countries.

Hippocrates (c. 460 BC – c. 370 BC): an ancient Greek physician, referred to as the father of Western medicine.

Arts of Mars: the martial arts, Mars being the Roman god of war. The term 'martial arts' although now most strongly associated with the fighting styles of eastern Asia, was also used as early as the mid-sixteenth century in respect of European combat systems.

Jiniri: female Djinn. (Djinn: Arabic spirits, or genies, who inhabit an unseen world in dimensions beyond the human world in Islamic mythology. The djinn, humans and angels make up the three sentient creations of God. The Koran mentions that djinn are made of a smokeless and scorching fire, and they have the physical property of weight. Like human beings, the djinn can also be good, evil, or neutrally benevolent.)

Dihyā al-Kāhinat: O/C inspired by and based (very) loosely on Daya Ult Yenfaq Tajrawt (c. early 7th century AD – c. late 7th century AD). A Berber religious and military leader who led indigenous resistance to Arab expansion in Northwest Africa. Al-Kāhinat (the female priestess-soothsayer) was the nickname used by her opponents because of her reputed ability to foresee the future.

Atlas: (Greek mythology) sided with the Titans in their war against the Olympians and was condemned by Zeus to stand on the western shores of Gaia (Earth) and hold up the sky on his shoulders.


	38. Chapter 37

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 37**

Nuada could only stare wordlessly at Elfraine, scarcely able to comprehend what she'd just said. He'd had a son! A child who'd lived and died... and all without his ever knowing it. It didn't seem possible and yet, somehow, it was true; everything about the woman kneeling in front of him told him it was. As she clasped his hands and provided an anchor against the brewing storm within, he could doubt neither the compassion he heard in Elfraine's voice nor the sorrow he saw in her eyes, and he was forced to confront the inconceivable truth.

All the dreams he'd had of a future with Dihyā – a future which had most definitely included children, had they been so blessed – came flooding back, and he felt numb inside. He'd had a son, a child whom he'd never seen, never held... never had the chance to love. It was Nuada who now pressed his forehead to their joined hands as he struggled to assimilate the discovery of that one small light whose flame had been extinguished all those years ago. He thought he'd lost everything of value long ago, the vagaries of fate leaving him with only his burning hatred of humans and his fierce determination to restore his people to their rightful place in the world... and with the old, yearning ache for a return of the love and respect he'd once shared with his own father – impossible now, thanks to the actions he'd been forced to take four years ago – and with his sister. But to learn that there'd been more left to lose after all, and that he'd never even known... might never have known but for the _human_ woman before him... His mind wrestled with the inscrutable twists of fate and he felt absolutely overwhelmed by this new-found knowledge.

Elfraine reacted instinctively. She let go of his hands and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Nuada. I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she murmured, as she stroked his hair and held him tightly.

She knew a great deal of what he must be feeling now; how could she not after her own daughter's cruel, needless death. But she could only imagine how the news he'd even had a son affected him. It struck her that in that respect, he was not so dissimilar to her second husband. Geoffrey had died half a world away – an almost unimaginable distance in those days - not knowing his wife carried his child, and Elfraine couldn't help but wonder what sort of father he would have made and whether any of what followed would ever have happened if not for Geoffrey's death. She suspected he wouldn't have changed his wandering ways one little bit but had to admit she hadn't known him well enough to say that with any certitude.

As she held Nuada, it occurred to her that she'd probably talked more with him in nine days than she ever had with Geoffrey in all their nine years of marriage and as a result, she could say with a great deal of confidence that despite his faults, Nuada _would_ have been a good father. Only last night, he'd earned her respect when he'd told her of his unwillingness to bring children into a world filled with such strife and uncertainty as his people faced, and had mentioned, in passing, some of the sacrifices he'd made in order to bring about a peaceful and assured future for his people and for any children he might one day have... and her heart ached anew, both for him and for what he'd lost.

Thinking about his words last night, Elfraine quickly realised Dihyā was one of the two women he'd spoken of and suddenly, another memory from those long-ago days surged forward to besiege her mind. Her hand stilled on Nuada's hair as the significance of this new recollection started to dawn on her with disturbing clarity. For one of the things Dihyā had confided in her was that her unnamed lover – the father of her child - had been adamant about waiting until they'd secured a better place in the world for their kind before having children... but Dihyā had not wanted to wait and had taken steps instead to circumvent her lover's precautions.

Elfraine had understood her friend's fierce desire for a child and didn't – couldn't - think any the less of Dihyā for what the Jiniri had done but as she stared distractedly at her hand, lying frozen on Nuada's bent head, the full implications of that particular memory hit her hard now and a knot formed in her stomach. Whilst there was no question she'd tell him everything she could about his son, she didn't want to go anywhere near the subject of Dihyā's deception. She knew enough of Nuada to know he could be exacting and unforgiving, and there was every chance it would damage her dead friend's standing in his eyes and tarnish whatever treasured memories he had of the woman he'd loved so much. However, she realised there was also every chance he'd blame himself for his son's death – after all, he clearly held himself accountable in some way for Dihyā's death - and if that were the case, he'd be better served by a full and frank recital of everything she knew.

Elfraine found herself wishing her friend hadn't disclosed _that_ particular secret to her, and she frowned as she made a hasty decision of sorts; if Nuada asked, she would, of course, tell him the truth without hesitation but for the moment, she'd wait and see how it played out. As she tightened her hold on him, she realised she was probably hoping in vain that he wouldn't blame himself... because if – when – he did, she would have to tell him everything anyway.

Nuada, meanwhile, drew in several deep drafts of air as he endeavoured to regain control of... of something! Eventually he raised his head and pulled back to grasp her arms. So many questions crowded his mind, and for a long moment he could only stare at her as he tried to sort through them all. How much could she tell him about his son? What had the boy looked like? What had he been like? What had Dihyā named him? How old had he been? How had it happened and how... how had he died? Nuada continued to stare at Elfraine, and as he wondered about where to start, all his questions suddenly collapsed into one. "Please..." He stopped and drew another breath, more steady this time. "Please tell me whatever you can about him," he asked evenly enough, though there was a raw edge to his voice that he couldn't quite hide.

"Of course," replied Elfraine, her heart going out to him as she touched his cheek in a small gesture of comfort. She furrowed her brow for a moment as she thought about where to start, and then opened her mouth to speak again. But the words were never said. Without warning, something slammed violently into the apartment with a terrific, booming wallop. The whole building shook fiercely as the sound reverberated through the room.

Elf, human, dragons and cat all froze. The shaking stopped and the sound died away, and for a split second there was total silence. And then it was as if all the demons of Hell were trying to batter down the walls, and Nuada was forced to tear his thoughts away from his newly-discovered son; his child, who had already waited four hundred years, would have to wait a while longer yet. They were under attack once more and judging by the ferocity of the incessant pounding, Nuada knew his stronghold charm would not last for much longer. Above the fearful jolting and rattling of the building, they could hear the awful howls of the Hounds of Odin... and something else: bone-chilling shrieks that rose over the top of everything and grated on their nerves like nails on glass.

Nuada quickly focused on the external threat now facing them; that, at least, was something he knew how to deal with, he thought fleetingly as he instinctively planned out his next moves. He placed the silver filigree ring in the palm of Elfraine's hand and closed her fingers over it. "Look after this and stay here," he ordered as he stood swiftly, pulling her up with him.

He seized up his sword from the floor and as he crossed over towards the balcony, the lights both inside the apartment and out on the terrace flickered and then died, plunging the room into darkness. His eyes quickly adjusted and he took up position by one of the doors to survey the stygian scene without.

The monstrous hounds' eyes glowed red against the black of the night, and Nuada could make out their dark, hulking forms as they ranged over the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. One of the beasts suddenly slammed into the glass door in front of him, startling him, but the stronghold charm held... for the moment.

Glancing down, he noticed his cantankerous feline nemesis had followed him over and was now standing in full sight of the terrace, arching his back and hissing at the hounds. It only spurred the canine creatures to greater lengths, and two more hurled themselves at the doors even more ferociously than before. Nuada hurried Goblin along none-too-gently with the toe of his boot, and earned himself a swipe from the cat's claws in return. But at least the intractable animal had the sense to take the hint and pull back from the doors.

Nuada followed him. Turning to where he'd left his armour, he saw Elfraine already had it in her hands and was holding it out for him. He took it from her and as the hounds' barrage continued, he quickly donned it and sheathed his spear. "You stay here and protect them if you have to," he directed, with a nod in the dragons' direction.

Elfraine dipped her head in wordless agreement and hastily retrieved her sword from beside the doors. She jumped as another hound suddenly crashed against the glass. The door held though, and she ran back to the dragons' side.

His own sword in hand, Nuada returned to the balcony doors and was about to pass through the barrier of magic to deal with the slavering beasts, when he spied the faint outlines of six massive creatures hovering low in the sky above. Six pairs of large, flat, sickly-yellow eyes suddenly fixed on him with malevolent intent, and then one after the other the gigantic beasts wheeled about and beat their black, feathered wings, quickly ascending into the dark firmament.

"Damn!" swore Nuada viciously. He'd seen enough of the flying leviathans to recognise them as demons from the Legions of Caacrinolaas, and he was under no illusion that they'd given up in any way. While he might have been prepared to test his skills against two or three of the fiendish creatures, he was not going to take on six of them at once and the Hounds of Odin besides. Even with Elfraine's unfailing help, he doubted they could overcome the forces now massed against them. As much as it galled him, the time had come for a strategic retreat.

However before he could move, the winged behemoths suddenly stopped high in the sky and turned around. They dived down in quick succession, flying as swift and sure as arrows for all their great, hulking size, and slammed into the side of the building with such force that the whole structure rocked on its foundations. As the first beast hit, Nuada grabbed hold of the door frame and all he could do was hang on to it until the bombardment had stopped. Glancing out, he saw that the demons were preparing to reform for another attack, and after a final, snarling scowl in their direction, he quickly returned to Elfraine and the dragons. All three were picking themselves up off the floor.

"We need to leave. Now!" he told them brusquely. "Hold onto me. We'll pull back to the Troll Market."

The dragons moved swiftly to his side but Elfraine hurried over to the wooden desk instead.

"I said we need to leave NOW!" he snapped impatiently.

"I'm not leaving without this," she replied tersely as she pulled the gold locket back out of the top drawer. She quickly opened the clasp and threaded his ring on the chain once more, and then returned to his side as she stuffed the jewellery into the pocket of her jeans. "It's the only keepsake I have left of Fortune. There's a miniature of her inside and wherever I go, it goes."

And his gift to Dihyā with it, Nuada thought, grabbing hold of her arm. The ring obviously couldn't have been in safer hands these last four hundred-odd years. His impatience evaporated but Elfraine suddenly pulled free of his grip and stepped away from him yet again. He growled with renewed frustration. "What, by the Gods, is so important now!"

"Goblin!" she answered defensively, as she scooped up the tattered ginger tom and stepped back to Nuada's side.

He could have argued with that, he thought. Instead, he quickly wrapped one arm around her waist and clamped her tightly to his side before she could think of anything else to rescue from her lodgings, and held out his other arm to the dragons, who each took a piece of his shirt sleeve in their mouths.

One of the Demons of Caacrinolaas crashed into the building yet again, finally breaching the stronghold charm. As it thrust its great head and snapping jaws through the balcony doors, Nuada summoned his power and in the blink of an eye, carried his small company along the unseen paths of magic that led to the rubble-strewn passageway outside the entrance to the Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór under the Brooklyn Bridge.

As soon as their feet touched solid ground, the dragons let go of his sleeve, and Nuada set Elfraine and her ever so _important_ armload to one side. He strode up to the large, round, carved door and passed his hand over the smaller panel next to it. The door swung open and he ushered the rest of the group into the hidden realm which lay beneath the human city. Goblin ran in first, followed by the dragons. Elfraine stepped in after them... and froze at the sight that greeted her.

Nuada, who was hard on her heels, ran into her and almost knocked her over. He quickly grabbed her shoulders to steady her... and then froze himself as he looked over the top of her head. His grip on her tightened unconsciously as he surveyed the scene before him, stunned. And as he took in the sight, a fierce, raging fury rose up to swamp his momentary disbelief.

The noisy, colourful hive of social and commercial activity that had been the Great Eastern Troll Market now lay in smouldering ruins. The bodies of some of its inhabitants were visible amidst the burnt-black wreckage, and the only sound that could be heard was the occasional popping and crackling of still-burning wood... otherwise all was still and silent as the grave.

**... ... ...  
><strong>

**Blackstone Castle, England **_(several hours earlier)  
><em>To his great relief, Abe's prayers were answered. He reached the dank, fetid waters with only seconds to spare, the Hounds of Odin snapping at his heels as he made a running dive into the dark, slow-moving current, and his good fortune continued to hold when the fiendish beasts baulked at following him into the water.

He quickly swam to the middle of the stream and turned to watch them from just below the surface as they ranged back and forth on the banks, howling with impotent fury at being unable to take down their quarry, and gnashing their great fangs at the water from time to time as though Lady Luck would suddenly smile upon their efforts to snatch up the amphibious, blue creature floating maddeningly out of reach. They prowled about in that manner for a while and then finally seemed to give up, or so Abe thought. He made several attempts to leave the water but each time, he could see the red glow of the hounds' eyes as they waited out in the trees and it didn't take him long to realise he wasn't going to be able to escape the foul stream any time soon. That being the case, he decided he might as well familiarise himself with his aquatic environs.

He swam downstream first, smooth, powerful strokes quickly taking him to where the watercourse started to fall away steeply in a series of fast-flowing, rocky steps that led to the valley floor below. Silver shafts of moonlight flooded the landscape and pierced the aqueous depths around him. The stream here was cleaner and further down, it looked even more inviting. But he'd already gone as far in that direction as he was going to; he was unwilling to venture too far from the castle... and Nuala.

He dove down into the clear current and lay submerged in the rippling drift for several moments, paying attention to the cool, silky feel of the water as it flowed sinuously over his skin, and listening closely to its murmuring, chattering talk as it continued on its journey down the valley. It was his way of centring himself and shoring up his resolve before turning back to face the dark, noxious waters from where he'd just come.

He'd already decided to explore the riverbed on his way back upstream, and just ahead was the deepest part – the part he hadn't ventured into on his first foray, earlier in the evening. It was the logical place to start but as he dived down into the depths, Abe admitted to himself that he was also glad of the excuse to spend a little more time in clearer waters.

However, what he found only renewed his apprehension over how Nuala was faring at Gretheved's hands. For down in the deep depression, he saw a dozen or so smooth, rounded, white objects strewn amidst the grey rocks. On closer investigation, he discovered they were the small, chipped and broken skulls of human children. They looked as though they'd lain in their watery grave for many years, the flesh and soft tissue having long since rotted away, and the brain cavities now filled with gravel and sand. Water boatmen and whirligig beetles darted in and out of empty eye sockets that had once sparkled with life and looked on the world with wonder, and only dark, feathery weeds issued forth from mouths that had once laughed with childish joy... and must surely have cried in bewilderment and fear as they met their untimely end.

There were other tiny bones, and bits of bone, scattered about too, and Abe picked up one to take a closer look at it. The second his webbed hand closed around the thin, white, osseous shaft, he felt a rush of terror and pain so overwhelming that he quickly dropped the bone and stared at it in horror. His telepathic and psychometric abilities had allowed him to sense the last moments of the child to whom it had belonged, and a sick feeling arose in his gut as he wondered anew just what sort of creature Gretheved was. After Elfraine Somerled's revelation that her husband had killed her daughter, he was certain Gretheved was responsible for the skeletal remains resting on the stream bed, and all he could do was pray that Nuala was safe for the moment and would stay so until they were able to rescue her. After one final look at the sad, forgotten bones, he swam up out of the depression and continued with his exploration of the stream.

There wasn't much else to find and the closer he got to the castle, the less he was able to see. There'd been limited visibility when he'd first checked out the gloomy depths by the Keep but there was none whatsoever now that it was night-time proper. It didn't matter though. He'd finished his explorations, and while his large eyes might not be of much help in this almost pitch-black environment, his amphibious mechanoreceptors functioned perfectly well, regardless of the light levels. As the current flowed over the microscopic channels of specialised skin cells, which ran along the dark stripes on his head and lay under the ridges of his body, Abe was able to detect the movement and vibration in the surrounding water. Guided by these sensations, he quickly made his way back to the entrance to the cavern under the cliff, where he'd felt Nuala's presence most strongly.

After he reached the passageway Abe swam restlessly back and forth in front of the opening, cursing his inability to get past whatever magic Gretheved had sealed the entrance with. He tried yet again to push through the barrier, coming at it from different angles, but no matter what approach he took, he kept running into the same invisible – and impenetrable - obstacle. Frustrated, he finally gave up his attempts and resumed his underwater equivalent of pacing.

As he swam, he cast his mind back over the last four years and the unexpected twists his life had taken in that time, as if it hadn't been strange enough long before then. He'd been devastated when Nuala had taken her own life in the chamber of the Golden Army four years ago in order to stop her brother and thwart Nuada's insane plan once and for all. As her life's blood had flowed from her soft, warm body and the light had faded from her beautiful, vibrant eyes, she'd torn Abe's heart from his chest and imprisoned it within the cold, inanimate stone of her own lifeless frame.

Turning away from Nuala and leaving her to lie in that dark, lonely chamber in Ireland for the rest of days to come had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. And as he'd emerged from the cave, walking out into the light and down that rolling, green hill in the Emerald Isle - away from Manning and away from the BPRD - he'd never felt so lost. The four years that followed had been the loneliest and most desolate he'd ever known. Visions of what could have been had haunted his dreams – nightmares, really - and in the waking hours, thoughts of what would never be had constantly chafed at the edges of consciousness, more often than not breaking free to tear through his mind and flay him anew.

Of course, Red and Liz had let him tag along with them, and he was deeply grateful for such true and trusted friends, but whilst he'd never felt he was intruding on their relationship when they were all quartered at the BPRD, he'd quickly come to feel like the proverbial third wheel in the smaller, domestic confines they suddenly found themselves sharing – not that Red or Liz had ever said anything... still, he couldn't help but feel it. And then when the twins had come along, though he'd settled quickly into the role of 'Uncle Abe', he'd felt like... well, like the spare wheel again. He'd gotten great joy and satisfaction from being 'Uncle Abe' to the two young children but once again, it had been a bittersweet kind of happiness as he was reminded, every day, of the life that could have been his... and Nuala's.

Finally admitting he was at a loose end, he'd even considered rejoining the BPRD, as Kraus had done after a couple of years' absence, but Abe had quickly realised the Bureau was not the place to be if he was to ever stand a chance of somehow subduing the painful memories that plagued him and living his life, if not happily, then at least on an even keel.

So, that was the position he'd found himself in when Manning had asked to meet with him, about four months' ago; he knew he had to do _something_ but he had no idea what. The Director had said he had some interesting news for the ex-agent and, with nothing better to do, Abe had agreed to see him.

They'd met in Manning's office and after some inconsequential small talk – "How you been Abe?", "Fine thank you, Thomas," – Manning had cut straight to the chase and asked the ichthyo sapien if he would come back to work for the BPRD.

Abe had half-expected a job offer, and his refusal had been instant and unhesitating. But then Manning had dropped his bombshell. Actually, the Director had called it a sweetener but to Abe, it had been a bombshell... at first. He'd wondered if he hadn't gone completely mad, his mind having at last constructed a reality where he could find some measure of happiness, however deluded. But Thomas Manning was real enough and so was his bombshell... Nuala, the lost love of Abe's life, had somehow been resurrected... as had her brother, Prince Nuada. And incredibly, the Elven twins were now working for the BPRD.

After their happy, joyful and, yes, tearful reunion, Abe had agreed without hesitation to return to the Bureau and from then on, he and Nuala had been almost inseparable. They'd quickly and easily slipped into the routines of a couple and had started to make plans for the future. The last four months had counted amongst the happiest of Abe's life.

Which was not to say there weren't any rubs in their way. There were serious questions over how and why the Elven twins had been resurrected. Manning had been deliberately vague about how he'd found them and how he'd... _persuaded_ them to work for the BPRD. But given Gretheved's fury that morning at not being able to recover a rune stone which apparently controlled Prince Nuada, Abe had a pretty strong feeling that the European agent would have some answers for them, though getting him to talk might prove... difficult.

And then there was the scowling, glacial presence of Prince Nuada himself. Though for the most part Abe was able to take the prince's cold and remote manner in his stride, there was no question that Nuala's angry, grim-faced brother cast a dark shadow over their happiness. However, Abe had hopes that perhaps Nuada was finally starting to thaw a little in his disapproval; only that day, the Elven warrior had gone so far as to lend him his dagger! Abe reached down now and nervously fingered the silver blade, making sure it was tucked firmly into his belt; he wouldn't want to have to tell Nuada he'd lost it.

And though he and Nuala had barely spoken about it, Abe was only too well aware that the other difficulty facing them was the Gordian knot which had tied up the Sons of the Earth for a millennia or more now: would they fade or would they fight... or what... and how? Abe had felt Nuala's shock when she discovered the wretched, desperate straits her people had fallen into over the course of four years – four years spent leaderless and adrift - and he'd also felt her determination to support her dead father's position. A princess of her people for all her four thousand years, she felt a natural and pressing responsibility to provide some kind of support to ease them through the difficult times ahead, and Abe knew that, somehow, their plans for the future would have to address that too. But while they thought alike on everything else, Abe had come to the conclusion that Nuala and her people shouldn't... _give up_ quite so easily, though he certainly wasn't having a bar of what he suspected was _still_ Prince Nuada's brutal, extreme solution, promises to Thomas Manning notwithstanding. He only hoped he'd get the chance to have a proper conversation with Nuala about the matter soon and see if he couldn't help her find some other way through that particular minefield.

As he glided back and forth, Abe's instinctive awareness of the water in which he swam started to increase and naturally enough, his thoughts soon turned more directly to the murky currents. Something about the dank drift caught his attention and he suddenly stopped moving as he focused closely on the characteristics of the aqueous liquid. He realised, with surprise, that there was an anomaly in the fetid flow and suddenly, he was like a hunter on the scent of his prey. Once again, he paid close attention to the feel of the water sliding over his skin and to its murmuring whispers as it passed through the magical palisade, and all of a sudden, Abe found what he was looking for: his way in. The spell Gretheved had cast on the underwater entrance was not impermeable after all.

Abe swam right up to the invisible obstacle and let his body relax completely. The flowing water gently oscillated him in its current and gradually, the movements of the rippling drift became his movements and he took on the characteristics of his watery surrounds. The way through the barrier couldn't have been clearer now and Abe timed his next move perfectly; with a powerful undulation of his body, he kicked against the current and slipped through the enchanted rampart to enter the wide passageway leading to the cavern. And as he swam along the short, subaqueous channel, a feeling of keen anticipation suddenly sprang to life within him; he could sense that he was getting closer to Nuala.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Caacrinolaas : aka Count/President Glasya-Labolas – 25th-ranked demon in the _Ars Goetia_, the first part of the _Lemegeton_ or _Lesser Key of Solomon _(an anonymous 17th-century grimoire mentioned in chapter 4 of this story – see too the references for that chapter). Caacrinolaas is a powerful President of Hell with 36 legions of demons at his command. Depicted as a dog with the wings of a griffin, he is the author and captain of manslaughter and bloodshed, and incites homicides, amongst other things.

Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór: (Gaelic) [the] Great Eastern Troll Market.

Mechanoreceptors: (biology) the means by which mechanical stimuli are converted into neuronal signals, e.g., the tiny hair cells in the inner ear which are responsible for hearing and balance. Some fully aquatic adult amphibians possess mechanosensitive systems that are comparable to the lateral lines found in fish, which allow them to negotiate low-visibility environments by detecting movement and vibration, and in some species, electrical impulses, in the surrounding water. (It seems reasonable to assume Abe might have such a system though I haven't been able to find anything to confirm this.)

Gordian knot: Gordias was a legendary Phrygian king. His son, Midas, dedicated his father's ox-cart to Zeus and tied it to a post with an intricate knot. Alexander the Great attempted to untie the knot but couldn't find the ends so he sliced it in half with his sword to produce the requisite ends. It was subsequently claimed that an oracle had prophesied that the one to untie the knot would become the King of Asia. The term is now used as a metaphor for an exceedingly difficult problem or deadlock.

... ...

**A/N:  
><strong>Just in case anyone's forgotten, we last saw Abe running for his life way back in Chapter 25. The second half of the above chapter picks up from there (obviously!) :)**  
><strong>

And thanks to the two reviewers of the previous chapter. I really appreciate your feedback – it's nice to know you're enjoying the story :)  
>Cheers<br>Essi.


	39. Chapter 38

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 38**

**Blackstone Castle  
><strong>It only took Abe a few minutes to traverse the length of the passageway and reach the egress to the cavern. His every impulse was to rush up onto the embankment and find Nuala as quickly as he could but his BPRD training kicked in and he made a concentrated effort to keep a calm head. Instead, he concealed himself to the side of a rocky outcrop, which ran from the ceiling to below the waterline, and proceeded to survey the interior of the large, darkened chamber from that vantage point.

Suddenly, he spied a group of figures in the shadows on the far side of the cavern and a feeling of overwhelming relief flooded through him as his eyes fell upon Nuala; she was a bright, shining star in the dark shadows surrounding her. His relief was swiftly tempered though as he saw Gretheved and Agent Nanael standing over the elven princess. Suddenly Gretheved reached out for Nuala and started talking to her. The water muffled all sound coming from the chamber, and Abe cautiously ascended a little way up the rocky outcrop and lifted his head out of the current to hear what was being said.

... ...

Gretheved grasped Nuala by the chin. "Not much longer now, my _precious_ princess," he murmured mockingly as he wrenched her head up.

Nuala's skin crawled at his touch but he held her fast with some kind of magic and try as she might, she couldn't move. She would have liked to spit in his face but even that was beyond her. As it was, her body and mind ached from the interrogation she'd been forced to endure at his hands for the last few hours.

"The present act is almost finished and once it ends, _your_ role is likewise at an end," Gretheved continued on, sneering at her. "You are too much like your weak and foolish father, and I cannot risk you ruining my plans. You seem to make a habit of interfering in matters that don't concern you."

Nuala stared at him. "You knew my father?" she asked, the surprise clear in her voice. She was glad she could at least still talk.

"For all the good it did me," he snorted in derision. "But no more of that timid, faltering king! You are too much like him, and so your usefulness has nearly run its course."

.

Watching and listening from the shadowy waters, Abe reached down and fingered the elven dagger in his belt.

.

Gretheved's words chilled Nuala to the bone; their meaning was unmistakeable. Stiffening her spine, she stared defiantly at the tall, handsome, dark-haired man holding her captive. She was a princess of the Royal House of Airgetlám, and as a point of honour she would not show her despair to the vile creature before her. Suddenly, a warm and familiar presence brushed against her mind, and had she been able to move, Nuala's knees would have gone weak with relief; Abraham was somewhere nearby! For a brief moment, she wondered how on earth he could have discovered where she was and come to her so quickly, and then she realised her brother must be here too. That at least explained how Abraham had arrived so swiftly.

Gretheved caught the faint flicker in her eyes and gave her a cruel, savage smile, mistakenly interpreting her look as fear. "You really are a delightfully responsive creature, my dear. I might be persuaded to keep you around for a while longer yet." His hand slid slowly down her neck and trailed over her breast before finally coming to rest firmly on her hip, and he laughed at the revulsion he read - aright this time - in her eyes.

.

Abe pulled the dagger out of his belt and held himself ready to rush the repulsive creatures threatening his beloved Nuala.

_.  
><em>

The beautiful, tall, black-haired woman standing next to Gretheved gave a growl of frustration and the Draoidubh turned to her with a raised brow. "No need to feel left out, my love," he purred. "I'll let you play with the princess too."

Nanael gave him a licentious smile and inclined her head. "I will look forward to my turn with her, my lord Draoidubh," she answered, in a deep, throaty voice. She stared at Nuala once more, cold, silver eyes eating the elven princess alive, and a soft, pink tongue pushing past two perfect rows of sharp, white teeth to flick lightly over blood-red lips in anticipation of the promised pleasure. As she took in the princess's expression of abhorrence, her mouth curved in a slow, carnal smile, and the light blush of desire touched her pale, smooth cheeks.

Gretheved gave a low chuckle at the sight of the aroused baobhan sith. He reached out and wrapped his free arm around Nanael's waist, pulling her voluptuous body up hard against his. Then with his other hand still gripping Nuala's hip, he ground himself against the Faerie woman's enticing curves, and thrust his tongue past her full, red lips and into her mouth. She moaned at his touch and returned the eager thrusts of his body and tongue, all the while keeping her avid eyes fixed on the elven princess.

.

Though the sight of the lascivious creatures sickened him, they were at least letting Nuala be for the moment... but Abe tightened his hold on Nuada's dagger all the same.

_.  
><em>

Nuala realised her look of disgust was only inflaming the shameless creatures and she struggled to wipe her face clean of any expression. Focusing on the calming influence of Abraham's presence, she managed to convey a reasonably decent impression of boredom to her captors.

With one final thrust against her luscious body, Gretheved released the baobhan sith and turned back to the elven princess. His face was flushed and his green eyes glittered with unslaked lust. "Your turn will come," he promised Nuala, a cold, predatory snarl twisting his lips. "And you won't look so disinterested then, I promise you that. I think when we've had our fill of your pale, sweet body I'll let Nanael have the pleasure of putting paid to your pathetic existence. After all, she shares a common lineage with the bean-sídhe who gave her blood so that you and your brother might live again. It seems only fair the honour goes to Nanael now... wouldn't you agree."

The Faerie woman gave a small gasp of pleasure at his words, and stared at Nuala with renewed anticipation.

Had she been able to move, Nuala would have shuddered. As it was, all she could do was pour every ounce of her hatred and revulsion into the look she now shot the contemptible pair. Then suddenly, the import of his words rammed home. "So _you_ are responsible for our resurrection!" she exclaimed. Her mind was awhirl and a thousand questions trembled on the tip of her tongue, though she'd be damned if she'd give the foul creature the satisfaction of asking him for answers.

Gretheved merely gave a sneering laugh and turned his mind back to the business at hand. Ignoring Nuala altogether, he spoke to Nanael once more. "The demons of Caacrinolaas should be fetching me that doxy bitch, Lady _Wylde_, at this very moment... _and_ her gallant prince. You are certain you ordered them to not to harm him?"

"Yes, my lord," replied Nanael, with a look of lewd anticipation.

Gretheved smiled coldly. "You are too easy to read, my love. The prince, of course, is yours... but only _after_ I have finished with him. I still have hopes he'll cast his lot in with us once he hears the arguments in favour of my proposition."

"Surely he cannot deny you!" exclaimed Nanael, a little surprised. "After all, you have the means to compel him." She looked meaningfully at the black ring on Gretheved's finger.

"Not as completely as I'd like," he snarled. Her comments reminded him, as if he needed reminding, that he didn't have total control over either the situation or the actors, and that thought roused him to anger. "The ring only allows me a limited amount of physical control over the elves, and even then I have to be close to them otherwise it's next to useless... The price of having been human once," he added bitterly. "I really need that rune stone. I can recast the spell and bind our dark prince more firmly to me once I have it back. Curse that fool, Manning, for parting with it!" A fierce scowl marred the Draoidubh's handsome features. "I've no doubt that little trull, Elfraine, opened her legs for him just so she could get her hands on the damn thing."

"No doubt," murmured the baobhan sith in placatory agreement. There was a brief pause. "And the little trull?" she asked, trying to disguise her eagerness.

Gretheved gave her a questioning frown.

"What do you intend doing with her?" she enquired, a hungry look lighting up her eyes.

He snorted in derision as he took her meaning. "You really are insatiable, aren't you. No, Elfraine Somerled belongs to me and I am going to teach the little slut a long overdue lesson." He paused for a moment as he contemplated the pleasures awaiting him there. "I may let you have whatever's left of her once I've finished with her," he added, relenting somewhat.

The baobhan sith's blood-red lips twisted in a cold smile at his words, and she inclined her head in acknowledgement of her lord's beneficence in the matter of his once-wife.

"And thanks to our... accommodating little princess, I know exactly how to deal with Lady Wylde now." He swung his sharp gaze back to Nuala. "It's only a shame you didn't speak up sooner, _Your Highness_... before I wasted my time sending the shadow beasts after her. Still, we had good sport convincing you to talk, didn't we."

A look of pained disgust flickered across Nuala's features and Gretheved gave a short, mocking laugh. But before he could comment upon it, a discreet cough from Nanael caught his attention and he turned back to the baobhan sith once again.

"Your words remind me, my lord," she said. "The Bureau has terminated our access to their computer records. We can no longer see their files."

"No matter," Gretheved replied, dismissively. "I already have all the information I need. Whilst you were... helping Her Highness settle in, I made sure to read Elfraine's file. There wasn't much in it – the princess was a vastly superior source of knowledge on that front - but I did at least discover my _dear_ wife's direction from the Bureau's records."

A wave of shame racked Nuala at his words. He'd forced his way into her mind and though she'd done her best to resist him – and indeed, had successfully defied him for a while - in the end, she'd been unable to withstand his assault. She couldn't help but think that her brother would not have fallen as she did. She had never before been subjected to anything even remotely like it. Gretheved had flooded her mind and her body with an exquisite, searing pain that left no physical mark but was impossible to fight against and finally, he'd torn from her all that she could tell him about Elfraine, including the fact that a dragon had made the woman immortal.

He'd been stunned by that and his initial disbelief had earned her yet more pain and torment before he'd eventually accepted the truth of what she said. Stepping away from her, he'd given her a furious look as he digested the information but Nuala's burst of satisfaction at having delivered such obviously unwelcome news had been short-lived. A hard, eager light had suddenly appeared in his eyes and a cold, mirthless smile had twisted his lips, and he'd muttered something about having just the thing to deal with Lady Wylde and her dragon magic.

Gretheved turned back to Nuala now and addressed her one last time. "By the by, my dear, you might be interested to know your brother, your lover and that great, red baboon of a demon were here earlier."

Nuala feigned a look of surprise at the news.

"Your brother and the demon abandoned you fairly quickly," Gretheved continued on, with a sneer. "However, your gallant Abraham still remains... though I daresay that's all he is by now... remains! I feel certain the Hounds of Odin will have seen to it."

He examined Nuala closely, almost expectantly, and she obliged him with a look of horror.

After giving the elven princess a cruel, satisfied smile, he then turned back to Nanael. "Come, my love. The slaughter of the amphibian is one loose end I suppose we should check on, and the other is to make certain the Troll Market has been destroyed. That should suffice to convince our prince that I have the wherewithal to help him prosecute his war against humanity."

This time, Nuala's look of surprised horror was real enough; the vile creature had struck out at the Troll Market _and_ he was going to offer her brother an inducement which she feared Nuada would find irresistible, no matter what else Gretheved had done.

"And then we need to make preparations for him and our other... _guest_," the Draoidubh continued on, a tone of smug expectation clear in his voice. "The demons of Caacrinolaas should be returning with them shortly."

Nanael nodded in agreement, and then she and Gretheved left the chamber without so much as another look at Nuala.

As they entered the passageway leading out of the cavern and disappeared from sight, Nuala was abruptly released from the Draoidubh's hold over her and she sank to the ground, trembling with the terror of her ordeal and calling out to Abraham with her mind. And then she saw him in the water on the far side of the cave, and her fear was replaced with a feeling of relief that would have sent her to her knees if she hadn't already been on them.

Abe put the dagger back in his belt and quickly climbed out of the water. He rushed over to her and, gently taking her by the arms, helped her up. Clasping her tightly to him, he murmured soothing words of comfort as he stroked her hair.

"Oh, Abraham," she cried, returning his embrace. "I am so _glad_ to see you, mo chuisle. I have never been so frightened in all my life. Did you hear what he said? What he intends?"

"I am most relieved to see you too, love, and yes, I heard everything that monster said," Abe replied. He carefully took her hand and looked into her dull, weary eyes. All that she'd felt - all the fear and the pain - suddenly flooded through him and he was hard pressed not to go after Gretheved then and there. "I know everything, Nuala," he said softly instead. He paused for a moment before continuing. "I don't want to rush you after all you've been through but when you are ready, my dear, we need to get out of here and return to the Bureau."

"Y-yes, of course," she agreed. "I am ready now! But Abraham, how will we get out? I cannot use my magic in this place. It was one of the first things I attempted when I arrived but something forestalls me."

Abe frowned at that; he'd thought Nuala could take them back to the BPRD straight away. "Your brother said there was a spell of concealment around this place. It may be interfering with your efforts. If we could only get out of here, you might be able to use your magic again."

"What about the way you came in?" she asked. "The stream."

She was right; Abe quickly realised it was probably their only option. "Are you up to it though, Nuala," he asked, eying her with concern. She looked absolutely exhausted and though it was no great distance, he was worried the swim back might be more than she could manage in her present state.

"Yes," she replied, with a small, tight smile.

"Very well then, my dear, the stream it is," he said, giving her a reassuring smile in return. "Are you ready?"

"I am more than ready to leave this place, Abraham," she replied, fervently.

He started to lead her over to the stream, taking note of their surroundings as he went. Suddenly, something in one of the dark recesses of the cavern caught his eye and he came to an abrupt halt. As he peered into the gloom, Abe was horrified to see a great pile of small, child-sized bones lying in the shadows clinging to the wall and as he looked around, he realised the chamber was filled with bones. His mind flew back to the skeletal remains he'd discovered in the stream and he repressed a shudder. Surely Gretheved could not be responsible for _all_ of these...

Nuala knew immediately what had disturbed Abraham and squeezed his hand. "I know," she whispered. "It is awful. I saw them when I first arrived, and my heart wept for all those poor little children."

"I suppose there's nothing we can do, my love, except get out of here and expose that filthy monster to the bright light of day. After all, _sunlight is the best disinfectant_," he murmured.

They didn't speak again as they continued over to the stream. Once they'd reached it, Abe turned to face Nuala. "I'm sorry, princess, but you are going to have to take off your skirt," he told her as he eyed the heavy silk of the long garment. "It will be next to impossible to swim with it on and it will only drag you down."

"If my modesty is all I must sacrifice then I will have been let off lightly, mhuirnín," she assured him. She was already pulling off the beautifully-patterned cerulean skirt.

Abraham leaned over and gave her a swift kiss. "Your brother is not the only one with spirit and strength," he remarked, giving her a look of such wholehearted admiration that a rush of warmth coursed through Nuala. Then Abe swiftly slid into the dark water and helped her in.

"It's only a short distance, my dear, but you'll have to hold your breath the entire way. And too, there's a magic barrier at the far end of the passageway. We'll need to time it right with the flow of the water to get past it," he warned as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "It will be easier if I guide you. Now, take a deep breath, my love."

Nuala nodded wordlessly and did just that, and then they dived down into the murky depths and started to make their way out.

It took them longer to swim the length of the passageway than Abe would have liked; Nuala could not move as quickly through the water as he could and by the time they reached the magic barrier, she was fast running out of air and starting to panic. He knew she wouldn't be able to hold her breath for the time it would take to get past this last, difficult stretch, and nor would she have sufficient breath to return to the cavern.

Grasping her shoulders and turning her round to face him, he used his mind to reach out to her. _Relax... and trust me_, was the thought he sent her. _I will give you my breath._ With that, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. She parted her lips for him and Abe emptied the air from his lungs into hers. A feeling of quiet calm spread through them both as oxygen suffused Nuala's body, and Abe couldn't have said where his relief ended and hers began. He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist again and then turned back to the occult barrier to focus on the water flowing through it. As he had before, he saw his chance and moved with perfect timing to slip through the enchanted palisade and suddenly, they were free of the sinister confines of the castle and chamber.

They quickly swam upwards and broke the surface of the dark waters, Nuala drawing in great, gulping gasps of air as she did. She turned to make for the shore but Abe grabbed hold of her arm and stayed her.

"We need to watch out for the Hounds of Odin," he warned as he scanned the tree-line for any sign of their glowing red eyes.

She nodded and turned her own eyes to the trees to search with him.

Seeing nothing, they swam up to the embankment, and Abe clambered out first. He'd just turned to help Nuala when, without warning, they were surprised by the awful howling of one of the great, black beasts. Abe didn't even have time to look up. The creature slammed into him like a dark, speeding meteor as it leapt from the rocks high above the stream's egress. It knocked him back several feet and as its sharp talons sliced through muscle and bone, Nuala could only watch in horror.

The snarling beast's momentum carried it on past Abe and it landed some twenty or thirty feet away from where he'd fallen. With another great howl, the slavering creature wheeled about and ran back to finish off the wounded ichthyo sapien.

Nuala, now acting on instinct alone, transported herself the few feet to Abraham's side and grabbed hold of him. The Hound of Odin gathered itself on its haunches and sprang forward to deliver the killing blow but as it stretched out its talons to shred them to pieces, the elven princess and the blue amphibian vanished. The demonic creature's claws found only grass and dirt, and all it could do was bay furiously at the loss of its prey.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**References:**

Draoidubh: (from Gaelic) Dark sorcerer - 'draoi' meaning druid or sorcerer, and 'dubh' meaning black or dark.

Baobhan sith: (Scottish Gaelic) A beautiful seductress and type of female vampire in Scottish mythology (comparable to the Irish bean-sídhe or leanan-sídhe). They prey on young travellers by night.

Doxy: archaic English term for prostitute or mistress.

Trull: prostitute, slut (first known use 1519).

Mo chuisle: (Gaelic) literally, 'my pulse'. Can also mean 'my love' or 'my darling'.

'Sunlight is the best disinfectant' – popular paraphrase of a well-known quote by US Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis (1856 – 1941; Associate Justice on the Supreme Court, 1916 – 1939).

Mhuirnín: (Gaelic) sweetheart/darling.

The idea of Abe giving his breath to Nuala is taken from _**Hellboy, Animated: Sword of Storms.**_ In that story, Abe and Liz end up in the ocean after a plane crash and Abe saves Liz's life by giving her the air from his own lungs. (Being amphibious, he can use his gills to breathe underwater so the way I see it, his lungs are like a reserve oxygen tank.)


	40. Chapter 39

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**A/N:  
>A huge thank you to CrazyNorwegian who has done a wonderful drawing of Elfraine on deviantART. Check it out at crazynorwegian. deviantart gallery#/ d5tus8y - remember to take out the spaces :) I've also posted the link on my profile page. I'm still blown away by just how closely it matches the picture I have in my mind of Elfraine... spooky :D  
>Cheers<br>ESSI**

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 39**

**Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór **_(Great Eastern Troll Market)  
><em>Elfraine winced as Nuada's hands bit into her shoulders. She didn't need to see his face to know he was consumed by a fierce anger at the sight before them; she could hear it in his sharp intake of breath and feel it in the sudden tension which gripped his body. She reached up and squeezed one of his hands; it had been a day of shocks for him – for her too, she thought sardonically - and the day obviously wasn't done with them yet.

Her touch pierced the black haze of his rage and Nuada looked down at her, drawing in a deep breath as he struggled to master the savage fury coursing through him. "I need to find out what happened here," he ground out, his voice harsh.

Elfraine looked back up over her shoulder at him but before she could say anything, his head snapped up and he stood, alert and listening. She turned her gaze back to the dimly-lit thoroughfare and strained her ears, and just over the crackling of burning wood she could make out what she thought were the faint sounds of some sort of commotion, away in the distance.

"My people are still under attack!" Nuada exclaimed as he moved Elfraine to one side and started forward. He took two steps, then stopped and spun back to face her. "You will never keep up," he muttered, recalling their last visit to the Troll Market. Before she could say a word, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder then wheeled round and started sprinting down the avenue towards the source of the noise.

We've done this before, Elfraine thought to herself as her teeth rattled in her head and his armour and weapons dug into her uncomfortably. Was it really only two nights ago he'd carted her through the Troll Market in such a fashion after rescuing her from a baying crowd of Fae who were set on having some _fun_ with the human interloper? It seemed like much longer. She grabbed hold of the edge of his armour and attempted to brace herself against the jolting movements. Her efforts didn't particularly lessen the discomfort but at least she wasn't shaken around quite so much... and at least too, he had no reason to slap her on the backside this time, she thought, giving thanks for small mercies. She turned her head slightly and through the tangle of her hair and his, she saw the dragons fly past, apparently eager to join the fight. A blur of ginger fur was all she saw of Goblin and then she lost sight of him completely.

The closer they got, the louder the sounds grew and soon enough, Elfraine could make out a great deal of yelling and screaming. She recognised the howls of the Hounds of Odin amongst all the noise and, more worryingly, the same bone-chilling shrieks she'd just heard at her apartment. Just as Nuada had spirited them away, she'd caught a glimpse of a great, winged creature with snapping jaws crashing in through her balcony doors, and she wondered if it was responsible for the hellish noises. She shuddered at the thought of such a behemoth now rampaging through the Troll Market.

After a series of sharp, twisting turns during which Elfraine lost her sense of direction completely, Nuada came to a sudden halt. He dumped her unceremoniously back down to the ground and she grabbed his arms to steady herself. They were in a small side-alley and the noise coming from the square onto which it opened was almost deafening.

Nuada glanced down at her hands and noticed she'd left her sword back at her lodgings. He paused briefly to speak to her. "Find yourself a weapon – you won't be short of choice - and do what you can... and I know you can't be killed, but take care nevertheless." Before she could even nod, he pulled her up tight against him and gave her a swift, hard kiss then released her. And then drawing his own weapons - sword in one hand and spear in the other - he raced towards the courtyard beyond the alley, a flash of flying white-blonde hair and gleaming Elven silver.

"You be careful too!" Elfraine called out after him. "And mind that leg," she trailed off; she was talking to thin air. Drawing a deep breath, she followed him into the fray.

... ...

Elfraine quickly found that Nuada had spoken true; unfortunately, there were only all too many weapons available for her to choose from. She stooped down as she ran and snatched up a sword from the side of what looked like a fallen merrow; he'd been cut to ribbons and it was difficult to tell but the green hair and chunks of scaly flesh, which were about all that was left of him, pointed to what the dead creature might have once been.

She reached the middle of the square and paused to look around. All about her, pockets of Troll Market inhabitants were mounting the best defence they could against the Hounds of Odin and the shadow beasts. At the far end of the square, Elfraine saw _four_ creatures which looked like the flying leviathan that had attacked her apartment, and her heart sank. A large, disorganised band of elves and trolls was attempting to hold them at bay ... and, of course, Nuada was making a beeline straight for them all. She started forward as a swarm of shadow beasts suddenly rushed him from both sides, black swords glittering darkly in their hands, but quickly stopped when she saw her assistance was not needed. Using the haft of his shortened spear to block and deflect their blows, he cut a swath through them with his own gleaming blade and swiftly reached the side of the other Fae defenders.

"So much for being careful," Elfraine muttered grimly as she turned back to her immediate surroundings. There was more than enough to keep her busy on this side of the courtyard, she told herself as she headed for a small group of Fae who'd been cornered by six of the monstrous Hounds of Odin. Two goblins and a troll were at the front, and though they were doing their best to protect those behind them, they looked to be fighting a losing battle. The bodies of several other goblins and trolls lay at their feet whilst the Hounds had lost only two of their number.

At least she knew what she was up against with these creatures, Elfraine thought as she ran towards the group. Attacking from the rear, she jumped onto the back of the nearest hound and swiftly reached around to slit its throat. The great beast collapsed beneath her and threw her off as it hit the ground. She rolled into the fall and straightened up only to find herself staring down the muzzle of another of the hellish hounds. It snapped her up in its jaws and shook her ferociously whilst biting down savagely on her waist, nearly cutting her in half. Gritting her teeth, Elfraine pushed through the pain - and death - with the dragon magic and reached up to plunge her sword through its great, burning red eye and deep into its brain. The fearsome creature crashed to the ground and released her from the vice-like grip of its maw. Pulling her sword out, she sprang up and swiftly positioned herself alongside the troll to face their adversaries.

The goblins had been quick to take advantage of the hounds' momentary distraction with Elfraine; they'd leapt over the snapping jaws and onto the back of one of the canine creatures, and were now tearing at it with their long, lethal talons. Though the monstrous beast writhed and twisted, it could neither shake them off nor reach around to sink its gleaming white fangs into them. In only a matter of moments, the goblins had laid the flesh of its broad back bare to the bone. One of the sharp-clawed fiends thrust its hand down through the exposed ribcage, burying its arm deep within the hound's body. It grabbed hold of whatever it could and ripped a fistful of intestines out of the screaming creature with great gusto. The other goblin quickly joined in.

Elfraine, meanwhile, started forward and drew the attention of the three remaining hounds back to herself.

The troll saw his chance; giving a mighty roar, he dealt the nearest hound a crushing blow with his war hammer. Blood and gore flew out in all directions as the snarling canine's skull caved in. Moving surprisingly quickly for something so large and sturdy, the troll swung his huge hammer again and caught another of the hounds a glancing blow to the flank. The monstrous creature staggered for the merest second then swiftly whipped round to face its assailant with a fierce, slavering snarl.

The other hound leapt at Elfraine. She fell to her knees and, holding the hilt of her sword with both hands, thrust the blade up into its belly. Twisting her whole body sideways, away from the howling beast, she sliced in an upwards arc and laid open its stomach. Blood, entrails and other viscera rained down and she quickly rolled out of the way, avoiding it all... for the most part.

She leapt up and spun round to face the last hound but saw that the troll had matters well in hand; he was pummelling away at the beast with great ferocity and though he had a large chunk of flesh torn out of his opposite shoulder and upper arm, he was well on his way to reducing the creature to nothing but a pile of bloody, hairy pulp.

Elfraine quickly turned her attention to those whom the troll and goblins had been defending. They were an assortment of mothers and children, and various other Fae. She immediately recognised two faces in the small group: the elf-witch, Gràinne, and the pleasant young pixie woman who had escorted her and Nuada to the cailleach feasa's shop when they'd visited the Troll Market two nights ago. Like everyone else in their small band, they looked bloodied and bruised, and utterly exhausted.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both again," Elfraine said as she inclined her head respectfully to the pair. "I'm only sorry it's under such... trying circumstances."

"I am likewise pleased to see you," Gràinne replied, graciously. "We are indebted to you for your assistance."

"Not at all," Elfraine demurred. "Is there somewhere more secure where you can all, ah, wait it out?" she asked, looking around the immediate vicinity.

"We were making for those shops," Gràinne answered, gesturing towards three buildings sitting on the perimeter of the square. "Unfortunately, we didn't quite reach them, as you can see. We should get over there now. I can fortify them with a stronghold charm which will keep out the hounds and shadow beasts."

"An excellent idea, madam," agreed Elfraine swiftly. "We'll provide an escort, and then see who else we can help. You two brave gentlemen," she said, addressing the goblins, "you can provide the main guard, if you please." She turned to the troll. "And you, good sir, if you wouldn't mind taking the lead, I'll guard the rear... and once we reach the shops perhaps someone could have a look at that wound for you whilst Mistress Gràinne sees to the defences."

A tall, beautiful Elven woman with silver-blonde hair stepped forward at that. "I am Fand de na Leigheas. I am a healer and I will tend to him. I have patched him up in the past," she added, turning to the troll with a small smile.

He acknowledged her offer with a nod of his head. "If you work some healing magic into the wound and then bind it for me, I will be fit to fight once more," he grunted.

"Consider it done," replied Fand.

"Good!" exclaimed Elfraine, pleased to have that settled.

Everyone quickly took up position, and they moved off towards the opposite side of the square. Luck was with them; the Hounds and the shadow beasts were fully engaged by the other groups of Troll Market inhabitants, and Elfraine's small band made it to the shop buildings unimpeded.

The troll and the goblins stood aside, guarding the door as the others entered the low-roofed wooden structure. Gràinne, Fand and Elfraine were the last to arrive, and the troll stepped forward to speak to the human woman.

"I will rejoin you once Máistreás Fand has seen to my wound," he told her in a low, rumbling voice.

Elfraine nodded. "We'll gather up those of your people who can't fight and get them back here as we can. Those who _are_ able to fight can come with us and we'll deal with whatever's left of the hounds and shadow beasts... and then see if we can't lend a hand to Prince Nuada and the others."

As she spoke, she looked down the square to where the Elven warrior was fighting alongside some of the other defenders against a teeming mass of shadow beasts. At least he'd brought a bit of organisation to the group of Fae fighters, and they even seemed to have something of a plan of attack now, she reasoned as she gazed anxiously at him.

"Very well," agreed the troll gruffly, interrupting Elfraine's thoughts.

She quickly turned her attention back to the situation at hand, reminding herself sternly that Nuada had given her a job to do and most likely wouldn't thank her for wasting time now worrying about him.

The troll was about to say something further when he glanced up over Elfraine's head and drew a sharp breath.

The others turned to follow the line of his eyes. There were gasps of wonder from Gràinne and Fand, and surprised chatter from the goblins but Elfraine merely arched her brow.

"I wondered where they'd gotten to," she remarked as she watched the dragons swoop down and pick off two of a number of shadow beasts encircling another small band of Fae. "I suppose we should go and help." And with that, she darted off towards the melee. The goblins paused only to admire the dragons once more, and then swiftly followed her.

"So, they are the dragons," whispered Gràinne as she continued to stare at them.

"What do you mean?" asked Fand. She could not tear her gaze away from the young creatures either.

"As you may have heard, I met the human woman two nights ago," the elf-witch explained. "I saw into her mind and discovered then that dragons still lived in this world. I did not think to see any again so soon though."

"Ahh," said Fand. "I _did _hear of Prince Nuada's visit, as it happens... and of the human who accompanied him." She shifted her gaze to Elfraine, who had reached the embattled group of Fae by now. "So, that is her," she murmured thoughtfully.

Gràinne tore her gaze away from the dragons and knitted her brow as she looked at the healer. There was something in the other woman's voice that gave her pause for thought.

"I did not hear any talk of dragons though," continued the healer, with a sharp look at Gràinne.

The elf-witch didn't respond to that. "Come! We'd best get inside," she said instead. "I will work the stronghold charm whilst you tend to our friend here. If I know trolls at all, he will no doubt be eager to return to the fight."

"Of course," murmured the healer, inclining her head respectfully.

The troll merely grinned at Gràinne's words as he followed the two Elven women into the shop.

Fand soon had him fixed up and he regrouped with Elfraine and the others. Together, they worked their way around the square, gathering more and more Fae fighters to them as they took on the Hounds of Odin and the shadow beasts while those who couldn't fight were shepherded to the safety of the shops. And though they were not so lucky as to sustain no losses of their own along the way, they were still a respectably-sized fighting force by the time they'd recaptured their end of the square.

"Well, I think we've done all we can here," Elfraine murmured to the dragons after they'd helped the last group of beleaguered Fae. She was most heartily glad they were finally done with the intense, brutal skirmishes; it had quickly and naturally fallen to her to distract their adversaries so that the other defenders could gain the advantage, and she'd lost count of the number of times she'd been chewed on by the hounds and hacked to pieces by the shadow beasts. Still, as she'd told Manning three days ago when he'd offered her a position as an Enhanced Talents agent, it was not the first time she'd found herself in such a role and when all was said and done, she couldn't really complain. Unpleasant as it was, it was not as if she was going to suffer any lasting effects from the experience.

Which was more than could be said for many of the poor souls who'd populated the once-thriving and bustling Troll Market, she thought to herself as she looked at the carnage around her. She quickly turned her eyes to the other end of the square and suddenly, Elfraine's heart was in her mouth. She was met by the sight of Nuada hanging onto the cross-ridge of one of the colossal creature's wings as another of the demons rapidly closed in on him. Just as its great, gaping jaws snapped shut, Nuada pushed up and swung around the neck of the first behemoth to plunge his sword into its neck. The huge beast made a terrible noise as it reared up. It stood suspended for a brief moment before it pitched forward and plunged to the ground with an almighty crash. A huge cloud of dust flew up and the very earth itself seemed to shake.

For a moment, Elfraine couldn't move; she was beset by a terrible, numbing fear that the Elven warrior had just been crushed beneath the monstrous demon. Making a conscious effort, she threw off her temporary paralysis and started forward. "Time to help out over there," she cried out urgently to the others around her as she pointed towards the far end of the square with her sword. The dragons took to the air at her words, and Elfraine and the rest of the fighters quickly followed them.

**... ...**

Nuada was frowning fiercely by the time he reached the group of elves and trolls attempting to fend off the Demons of Caacrinolaas. He'd served with a number of them during his time in the _Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae_, and was both surprised and annoyed by their disorganisation and lack of discipline now. However, he was honest enough to admit that a fair portion of his ire was reserved solely for himself and his sister. Lacking any sort of overarching authority and with no semblance of order, the Troll Market militia had obviously gone to rack and ruin in a relatively short space of time. He realised, to his shame, that was largely thanks to both his actions and Nuala's four years ago when between them, they had brought the royal House of Airgetlám to an end and left their people leaderless and adrift.

He spun round as Ælfweard suddenly appeared at his side; it was clear the other elf was no more pleased to see him now than he had been two nights ago when Nuada had put a stop to his harassment of Elfraine here in the Troll Market.

"More of your _friends_, are they?" asked Ælfweard sneeringly as he jerked his head in the direction of the demons.

Nuada gave him a narrow look but otherwise ignored his snide comment. "What, by the Gods, do you think you're doing?" he demanded furiously, giving no hint of the guilt that was riding him. "From the poor account you're giving of yourselves now, no one would even _suspect_ some of you had served in my father's army!" he spat out as he turned back to dispatch four attacking shadow beasts.

"Forgive me, _Your Royal Highness_!" snarled his old friend and comrade-in-arms, quickly fending off another two of the creatures. "Whilst you've been busy playing dead and consorting with the humans, your people have been otherwise occupied with the small matter of staying alive! We haven't had the time to even _think_ of maintaining our defences so it's hardly surprising we're giving such a _poor account_ of ourselves now!"

Nuada rushed forward to take on another three of the black, shadowy creatures. "Get five more fighters over here _now_!" he called out to Ælfweard. "Preferably five who have weapons and know how to use them! We need to rid ourselves of these accursed foot soldiers so we have a clear run at those demons."

Ælfweard hesitated for only the briefest of moments and then rushed over to the main group of defenders to do as Nuada bid. It hadn't taken him long to realise the Elven prince represented their best chance of defeating the enemy now besetting them so he decided he'd follow his former captain's orders... for the moment. He soon returned with five of the more experienced fighters and they swiftly set about ridding themselves of the shadow beasts. After a hard, furious battle, during which they lost two of their own number, the way was finally clear for them to make their run at the huge, demonic creatures which seemed intent on laying waste to the entire Troll Market... and everyone in it.

Nuada glanced along to the other end of the square and noted with grim satisfaction that Elfraine and another group of Fae fighters were managing to keep the rest of the shadow forces and the Hounds of Odin busy down there; the last thing he needed were enemy reinforcements coming in to replace their fallen compeers. In the time it had taken them to deal with the shadow beasts at their own end of the square, the colossal demons had killed another seven of the Fae trying to hold them at bay. They needed to dispose of the hellish creatures now... before they lost any more of their people!

Nuada quickly called Ælfweard and the other three remaining fighters back to his side. He knew them all well and had been glad to see them; they were skilled warriors whom he'd fought alongside in the past. "Ailill, you take the rest of our fighters and form two wide lines of defence," he ordered now. "The two lines will take it in turns to harry the demons then fall back whilst we four circle around behind them. You are not to engage the creatures directly unless you have to - I do not want to lose any more of our people. Your task is simply to distract them."

Ailill nodded his understanding, and raced off to carry out the Elven prince's orders.

Nuada turned to the others. "'I've fought the Demons of Caacrinolaas before," he told them shortly. "They have a vulnerable point just below the protuberance on the front of their necks."

"So, not particularly easy to get at then," remarked another of the Elven warriors, Cearul, as he gazed up at the towering creatures.

No," agreed Nuada. "Not particularly easy, but not impossible either. You need to climb up their backs if you are to stand the slightest chance of reaching their weak spot. They'll try and shake you off but they won't be able to get at you with their jaws. Now, follow me... and make sure you hold on tight once you start your ascent!"

... ...

Ailill quickly organised the other fighters as Nuada had directed, and the two lines of defenders soon had the full attention of all four demons. Meanwhile, Nuada and the other three elves swiftly and silently worked their way around behind the creatures, unnoticed, and began to ascend their massive backs. Ælfweard, Cearul and Lorcan, the third warrior, soon discovered that Nuada had not spoken lightly when he warned them to hold on tight. The minute the demons became aware of the elves' presence, they shook themselves about fiercely as they attempted to dislodge their attackers. The warriors had moved quickly, gaining considerable height, and it was all they could do to hang on whilst the gigantic beasts writhed and twisted furiously. The fighters below, who'd been distracting the demons, were forced to fall back to avoid being crushed by the wildly thrashing creatures.

Suddenly, Lorcan lost his grip and was flung to the ground. As he lay there, stunned, the demon that had thrown him off whipped round and snatched him up in its great jaws. It bit down on him, ending almost four millennia of life with a sickening crunch. Lorcan's blood flowed freely over the demon's muzzle and as his corpse turned to stone, the fearsome creature shook its head about ferociously. The remains of the Elven warrior shattered into a thousand pieces and rained down on the trolls and other elves below.

Turning its attention to its nearest companion, the leviathan leant in to pluck the assailant from its back. Nuada redoubled his efforts as he saw the creature's dark, stinking maw coming straight for him. With a final push, he leapt up and grabbed hold of a handful of dull, black feathers and coarse, leathery skin. Swinging himself around to the front of the demon he was marking, he thrust forward with his sword and found the weak spot on its neck. As he drove his blade home, the monstrous beast reared up with a terrible shriek and wavered for a brief moment before it plummeted towards the square below, dead.

With the hard ground rapidly rising up to meet him, Nuada let go of the creature. He made a desperate leap for the wreckage of a nearby building and caught hold of a sturdy beam of wood jutting out from the remains. As he crashed into the side of the pile of debris with a bone-jarring jolt, a huge cloud of dust rose up around him and the earth shook beneath him. But he managed to hold on to the beam and once the shaking had stopped, he swiftly made his way to the ground below.

Spitting out dirt and grit, he climbed up over the carcass of the fallen demon and headed for the hellish beast that had killed Lorcan. It now had its flat, sickly-yellow eyes fixed on Cearul and with a mighty swipe of its claws, it sent him flying through the air and crashing to the ground below. Nuada swore fiercely as he realised he'd never reach his fallen companion in time; there was nothing he could do to help him. But as the demon leaned in to finish off the wounded warrior with its deadly fangs, one of the young dragons flew past, swift as an arrow, and distracted the gigantic creature whilst the other dragon swooped down and seized Cearul in its talons. It lifted him up and carried him to safety, depositing the elf behind the lines of the Troll Market defenders.

Taking advantage of the demon's momentary distraction with the dragons, Nuada quickly scaled its back and reached the ridge of its wings before the creature fully knew what was happening. As it started to writhe and thrash, the Elven warrior glanced down and saw Elfraine and her band of fighters arrive.

She paused only to look up at him, and Nuada thought he saw something like relief flit across her strained features. Then she glanced across to Ælfweard, who was still struggling to reach the neck of his demon, and ran forward and dove between the legs of the leviathan Cearul had been attempting to kill. Before the demon could react, she'd regained her feet, sheathed her sword, and leapt onto the creature. She was now scaling its back, hand over fist, and Nuada thought her efforts rather extraordinary; despite the behemoth's pitching and rolling, she reached its wings in next to no time and hauled herself up to stand on the cross-ridge of one of the feathered appendages. After she'd secured herself a handhold on the creature, she turned to him.

"What's your plan?" she called out over the furious shrieking of the demons as she drew her sword again.

The writhing, thrashing movements of the monstrous beast didn't seem to disturb her at all, much to Nuada's surprise; he was finding it somewhat difficult to keep his own footing. He gave her a narrow look, the effect of which was lost on Elfraine. "They have a weak spot on their necks," he called back to her. And then suddenly, he saw his own chance. The demon's head whipped around, away from him, and without further ado, he grabbed a handful of feathers and skin, and swung out. His sword found its target once again and the massive creature let out a horrendous howl as it plunged to the ground.

This time, he was better prepared; he'd already marked out his escape route, and landed neatly on top of the remains of another destroyed building as the demon went down.

So, that's the spot to aim for, Elfraine thought to herself as she watched him dispatch the shrieking leviathan. She turned back to her demon with a grimace. Getting around to the front was going to be nowhere near as easy for her as it apparently was for Nuada, and she seriously doubted she could achieve her objective without taking at least a few killing blows from the massive creature. Still, she _could_ take them, she reasoned as she started making her way around demon's neck.

It wasn't long before Elfraine was within range of its claws, and it swiped furiously at her as it tried to dislodge her. She couldn't quite believe her luck as she worked her way round to the front; each time the demon lashed out, it missed... though not by much. Finally, she was within striking distance and she plunged her sword into the weak spot, just below the outgrowth on its neck. As the blade went in and the demon started to shriek, she began to think she might get out of it with only a few scratches after all.

However, her luck didn't hold. In its dying throes, the gigantic creature swiped at Elfraine once more and this time, it sliced through her with a razor-sharp talon, sending her flying and all but cutting her in half. In the scant seconds it took her to plummet to the ground, she pushed through with the dragon magic to overcome the fatal wound, and twisted around to roll into the fall. As she hit the ground she heard the sharp crack of her neck breaking, and a felt a huge flare of pain as her shoulder bones and spine shattered but she kept pushing through and completed the move to come to a standing position, none the worse for wear.

As she glanced up at the demon though, Elfraine discovered her ordeal wasn't over yet. The huge beast staggered and lurched for a moment and then started to fall... right towards where she was standing. In that split second, she realised she didn't have the time to even try and get out of its way so she just squeezed her eyes shut and awaited the inevitable.

But the crushing weight of the behemoth never hit her. Instead, she had the very breath knocked out of her as something suddenly slammed into to her and sent her flying sideways, out of the path of the falling demon. She ended up on her back and opened her eyes to find Nuada lying on top of her and staring down at her, his face only inches from her own.

"I thought I told you to take care," he rasped out as he recovered his breath.

She tried to shrug her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture of _je ne sais quoi_ but ended up wincing instead as rocks and other debris dug uncomfortably into her back.

"Forgive me," said Nuada, immediately pushing himself up on his arms and taking the weight of his own body. "I meant to spare you the pain of being crushed, not cause it."

"Oh, that's quite alright. I don't mind being crushed beneath you at all," Elfraine told him breathlessly... and a little naively. She flushed as she realised the other meaning that could be attached to her words, especially given that Nuada was now planted firmly, albeit innocently enough, between her legs.

Something hot flared in his eyes and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I'll have you back there soon enough, my Lady, I promise you that," he murmured, his voice husky. Then he quickly stood and held out his hand to help her up.

Elfraine caught her breath and all of a sudden, found herself greatly distracted. However, an impatient noise from Nuada recalled her from her very pleasant contemplation of both his eyes and his promise, and she reached up to accept his assistance with a warm look of her own. "Thank you," she whispered as he pulled her to her feet.

He slipped his arm around her waist and held her close as they swiftly turned to look up at Ælfweard, who was still struggling with the last demon.

The other elf had almost reached a point from where he could make an attempt on the creature but its fierce thrashing and writhing was making the task difficult and moreover, Ælfweard was now within range of its sharp, slashing talons. The demon struck out and its claws headed straight for him.

Nuada started forward but he was sickeningly aware it would be a wasted effort; he was too far away to offer any help at all to his old friend.

In the next instant, a flash of ginger fur leapt from the only building nearby that the creatures hadn't razed to the ground. It landed on the demon's head, and sharp feline claws started tearing at one of the leviathan's flat, yellow eyes. The creature swerved and its talons halted in mid-air, mere inches from Ælfweard's back. It let out a mighty roar and reached up to squash whatever was trying to scratch its eye out of its socket.

Elfraine immediately recognised Goblin and it was her turn to start forward impotently. But the tattered, butterscotch-coloured cat nimbly avoided the broad, heavy hand of the demon, and leapt back onto the building from where he'd come. If she didn't already know Goblin had used up his nine lives long ago, Elfraine would have been certain of it then. All she could do was shake her head and wonder at the irascible feline's good luck.

The cat's distraction gave Ælfweard all the time he needed; his blade found the behemoth's weak spot and the demon collapsed to the ground with a terrible shriek. Ælfweard hung onto the demon almost to the ground and then just before it hit, he leapt aside and though he landed awkwardly, he at least fell clear of the crushing weight of the great beast's carcass.

The battle was finally finished and as the dust settled, a strange quietness fell over the Troll Market for a brief time. Fae defenders of all description put up their weapons and gazed on the wreckage of their homes, their livelihoods... and their one place of sanctuary from the ever-pressing tide of humanity. Then as they started to look around frantically, trying to discover who of their kin who had survived... and who hadn't, the large group of civilians who'd fortified themselves in the shop buildings slowly emerged and headed towards them. There was relief on the faces of some as family and friends were reunited, and sorrow on the faces of others as grievous losses were discovered.

Nuada and Elfraine stood amidst the ruins and surveyed the scene, Elfraine searching anxiously for Moppet, Poppet and Goblin, and Nuada staring blankly at the burning wreckage of his people's lives. It was a scene he'd witnessed all too often in the past, and its gut-wrenching familiarity in no way lessened its impact now.

Ælfweard slowly limped up to them and, ignoring Elfraine entirely, nodded grudgingly at Nuada. "What do you propose now, _Sir_," he asked, his voice containing a barely-concealed edge of anger.

His question tore Nuada from his dark thoughts, and the Elven prince gave his old comrade a sharp look. "The usual, Ælfweard," he replied coldly. "See to the wounded and set about making arrangements for the dead. There'll be enough to keep us busy here for a while longer yet."

"And after that?" pressed the other elf. "What will we do then... _Sir_? Where will we all go and how shall we get on? This place is no longer safe for our people."

And just like that, Nuada found himself thrust into the role he'd been born and bred to ultimately assume. There was no one to defer to now but him, and the whole responsibility for his people now lay squarely in his hands. His brow knotted together as he thought about their situation. "The Elven court..." he started to say.

"Has fallen and is in disarray," broke in Ælfweard. "All they are concerned with are petty squabbles over who has the better right to lead our people. There will be no help from that quarter."

Nuada started to scowl. "Perhaps one of the other Troll Markets, either in this country or another, can give us sanctuary," he ventured.

Ælfweard's lip curled with faint derision at Nuada's suggestion. "That will hardly answer," he stated flatly. "The other Troll Markets of the world are in no position to take on so many extra mouths to feed. It would only cause great hardship for their own numbers."

"Our people could split into smaller groups," Nuada started to say.

"No!" broke in Ælfweard. "We have suffered enough already and _you_ would destroy what little fellowship we have left by scattering us to the four corners of the earth!"

Nuada was frowning fiercely by this time; he knew the other elf was right. Over the years, the disparate inhabitants of the _Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór_ had become a tight knit community, and to separate them now would only add to their sorrow and suffering. But if it was a matter of survival...

Elfraine's own fears had been quickly allayed; she'd spotted the dragons being fussed over by a growing group of Fae and spied Goblin quietly sitting to one side washing his paws. She was now following the elves' conversation with interest. As she stared up at Nuada and awaited his response, she caught a fleeting glimpse of something that looked like desperation in his golden eyes, and she realised just how great a weight he carried on his shoulders. A sudden thought occurred to her, and she reached up and tugged gently on his sleeve to get his attention, clearing her throat delicately as she did so. She was immediately skewered by two pairs of hard, auriferous eyes as the elves swung round to face her.

"Well?" snapped Nuada shortly, much displeased by her interruption.

"What right have _you_ to interfere in our business," Ælfweard started to say but he was silenced by a low growl from Nuada.

Elfraine, ignoring Ælfweard entirely, addressed Nuada in a tone of the utmost deference. "If you would do me the honour of allowing me to speak, I believe I can offer a possible solution for your consideration, Your Royal Highness." It occurred to her that a touch more respect likely wouldn't go amiss and she quickly sketched a small bow, silently giving thanks for her past experience in dealing with irked - and irksome - sovereigns.

Her deferential attitude, whilst mollifying Nuada somewhat, didn't fool him in the least and he arched a disbelieving brow at her. "By all means, Lady Wylde, offer your solution," he commanded in chilly tones.

Elfraine's eyes narrowed fractionally at the aloof note she detected in his voice but she quickly tamped down her own irritation. "I would offer you and your people the use of my home, Miles Cross, in the north of England," she announced coolly, abandoning all pretence of deference.

Nuada and Ælfweard stared speechlessly at her.

"It's a modest estate – some fifteen hundred acres – but I believe there will be sufficient space to comfortably accommodate everyone," she continued, graciously.

"I thought you told me your estate was forfeit to the Crown when you were hung," said Nuada, bluntly.

Ælfweard started in surprise at that. She was obviously still alive and he couldn't help but think that _somebody_ hadn't done a very good job, though he wisely kept the thought to himself.

Elfraine gave Nuada a tight smile as she responded to his forthright remark. "And so it was. But just over two hundred years ago, I managed to... scrape together the funds to buy it back from its then-owner and it has been in _my_ hands ever since."

Ælfweard could hold his tongue no longer. "That is not right!" he exclaimed hotly. "No one should _own_ any part of the earth! It belongs to all living creatures... not just hollow, greedy humans who think they can buy and sell it as they will! That land is _not_ yours; it never has been and it never will be!"

"_Au contraire_, good Ælfweard," Elfraine sniped sarcastically; the elf really was getting her back up and despite her best intentions to control her temper, she found she couldn't help herself. "Barring a smallish stumble of some one hundred and eighty five years duration, that particular fifteen hundred acres has been under the stewardship of the Somerled family - _my_ family - for over a thousand years. That land is in our blood, and we have loved it and cared for it and, yes, fought for it and defended it as surely as if it were one of us. In fact, it _is_ part of us. It has sustained us over time and we have sacrificed much to maintain our connection to it... a connection that can be neither quantified nor qualified in terms of mere money!" she added quickly, anticipating his argument. "And were I not the last of my line, you can be assured I would be passing the stewardship of that land on to my own children."

She paused for breath before continuing on in a more measured tone. "As it is, I have made provision for its continuing care and maintenance in the unlikely event anything should happen to me." Whether she was successful or not in her quest, she could at least pass from this world knowing she'd fulfilled her obligations to the land, she thought to herself as her gaze flickered past Ælfweard 's shoulder and fell on Goblin, who was sitting some way behind the elf. She noticed in passing that the cat was sitting up straight and giving every appearance of listening to her with great interest.

Ælfweard quickly recaptured her attention, however. Her arguments didn't sway him in the least. "You do not _own_ it!" he reiterated with a snarl.

So much for restraint, thought Elfraine as she threw caution to the wind. "Though your statement is highly contestable, you will note I use the term '_stewardship'_, not '_ownership'_," she shot back. "It is on that basis that I offer the use of it to your people now!" She whipped round to Nuada, who was listening to them with a pained expression on his face. "Well, do you accept my offer or not, Sir?" she demanded imperiously.

"Tell the filthy _human_ what you think of her offer, Sir!" urged Ælfweard furiously.

By the Gods, Nuada swore silently to himself. If this was even remotely like anything his father had had to put up with as king... He left the thought unfinished though it briefly occurred to him that there was much to be said for the discipline of the army. He quickly fixed both Elfraine and Ælfweard with a hard, golden stare.

"I do not concede anything as to 'ownership' or indeed, 'stewardship'," he stated sternly, to Ælfweard's undisguised delight and Elfraine's not-so-veiled annoyance. "However, I readily accept your generous invitation, Lady Wylde."

It was now Ælfweard's turn to scowl. Elfraine slid him a triumphant look and then gave Nuada her full attention.

"Our people are in desperate straits and your offer is most welcome. It will give us time to..." He paused for a moment. "Time to make other arrangements," he continued. Though he had no idea just what on earth those other arrangements could possibly be, he'd at least gained some breathing space to consider the matter.

Ælfweard opened his mouth to argue his point further but Nuada forestalled him. He addressed his old comrade sharply in the day-to-day language of their people, Gaelic. "Unless you can propose a better solution, Ælfweard, I suggest you leave the matter there. Look around you! There are the wounded to tend to, the dead to bury and most importantly, the living to provide for."

"I know all this, Nuada, but there must surely be some other way. To be forced to accept assistance from a human..." Ælfweard left the thought hanging.

"Be assured, old friend, it is not an answer I embrace wholeheartedly but the exigencies of the situation leave me no choice other than to accept Lady Wylde's offer," Nuada told him cynically.

The other elf's head went up at that and a hard gleam lit up his eyes.

Nuada thought it wise to qualify his statement. "Make no mistake though, Ælfweard. I will not stand for any harm being visited upon the lady and nor will I tolerate _any_ of our people offering her disrespect of any sort."

Ælfweard stared at Nuada for a long moment, and then comprehension dawned. "I see," he sneered. "You are rutting with a piece of human filth and you're so besotted with her, you'd take her part over that of your people!"

"What is between Lady Wylde and I is no one's business but hers and mine," Nuada told him icily as his hand tightened instinctively on the hilt of his sword.

Ælfweard noticed the reflexive gesture and his expression grew even grimmer.

Nuada continued on, in glacial tones. "You will offer her every courtesy and respect, not because of what she may or may not mean to me but because of what she has done this day for our people. She has fought in our cause as courageously as any of our kind, and she has generously and selflessly offered up her home for our use. You do not have to like it but you _will_ obey the dictates of honour... or you will answer to me."

Ælfweard stood ramrod straight and inclined his head stiffly. Nuada's meaning couldn't have been clearer. "Very well then, Sir," he acquiesced with the utmost reluctance. "It shall be as you command."

"Good," replied Nuada shortly, switching back to English for Elfraine's benefit. "Take a detail and see to burying the dead. I will consult with the healers about the wounded, and then we will attend to the rest."

Ælfweard nodded once more and hastened to do Nuada's bidding, muttering under his breath as he went.

Nuada swung his sharp gaze to Elfraine, who had wandered off a short distance when the two elves started speaking in Gaelic. "Lady Wylde," he called to her.

"Yes?" she enquired, turning to face him.

He walked up to her and stopped to look down into her eyes. "You have my thanks and my gratitude for your most generous offer."

She inclined her head cautiously; something in his tone told her there was a 'but' lurking about in the background and his next words proved her right.

"However, I would caution you against goading the likes of Ælfweard," he warned, his voice deadly serious. "We both know of what I speak," he added quickly, hoping to forestall the argument he felt certain she would make.

But Elfraine surprised him; she had no intention of contesting the point. "You are right," she admitted. "It was not well done of me and I'll not insult you by trying to offer any excuses for my petty behaviour. I will only say that I am sorry." She gave him a rueful smile. "And by the by, you are welcome."

Nuada gave her a half-smile in return and softened his tone at her words. "Very well then, Lady," he said, holding his arm out to her.

Elfraine gazed at his outstretched hand then raised her eyes to his. "There is one thing though, Nuada," she told him, her voice and her look steady.

"Yes?" he enquired warily as his hand fell back to his side.

"I will not apologise to anyone for the immutable fact of being human," she told him with quiet resolve. "It is such a matter as requires no apology at all, not now and not ever."

Nuada went still and held her gaze, his own eyes giving away nothing. After a long moment, he inclined his head slowly and then extended his hand to her once again. "Come, Lady Wylde. There are wounded to attend to. I believe you mentioned something about having experience in such matters... experience you gained at Gallipoli, was it not – during the First World War."

Elfraine looked up at him in surprise as she took his hand. She had mentioned Gallipoli and the date, certainly, but nothing about the particular war. "You've heard of _the war to end all wars_ then?" she asked curiously.

"Heard of it?" he countered, astonished that she could even ask. "No one and nothing in this world could have _missed_ it. And it most certainly did not put an end to as much as I would have wished," he added sardonically.

"No, I don't suppose it did," she murmured as he drew her to his side and they moved off to find the Elven healers.

"Do you know," he remarked soberly, giving her hand a squeeze, "though I've lived four thousand years and seen and done much, this day is one I will never forget... for many reasons."

Elfraine's eyes flew up to Nuada's chiselled profile for the briefest instant before returning to the way ahead. Not for the first time, she wondered whether the events of this day, like many others, would be ones that would never happen if she was successful in her quest. Some aspects of it - indeed, a great many aspects of it – would most definitely not be missed but at the very least, the Elven prince should still know of his son. She held back a sigh. Though she'd teased Nuada about his 'later' list and how quickly it was growing, she in fact had a list of her own. It was entirely unaccountable, but _her_ list seemed to have doubled in size since she'd met him, and she'd just discovered yet another thing to add to it. Making a mental note, she returned the press of his hand in a gesture that might, likewise, never happen one day.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**References:**

Merrow: Irish and Scottish Gaelic mythical creature. Like a merman, it's human from the waist up and has the body of a fish from the waist down. Merrows can live above the sea, and according to some accounts, the males have short, stumpy legs and scaly bodies.

Cailleach feasa: (Irish Gaelic) wise woman, fortune teller.

Fand: (Irish) a goddess of healing and pleasure.

de na Leigheas: (Irish Gaelic) of the Healers.

Máistreás: (Irish Gaelic) Mistress.

An Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae: (Irish Gaelic) The Bethmooran Defenders of the Fae (the army).

Je ne sais quoi: (French: literally, 'I know not what') something that cannot be adequately described or expressed.

Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór: (Gaelic) [the] Great Eastern Troll Market.

Gallipoli Campaign: aka the Dardanelles Campaign or the Battle of Çanakkale (25 April 1915 – 9 January 1916, during World War I). See references for Chapter 36 for further information.

'The war to end all wars': a term for World War I, attributable to British author and social commentator H.G. Wells, and associated with US President Woodrow Wilson (1913 – 1921).


	41. Chapter 40

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

**Chapter 40**

Nuada and Elfraine soon found Gràinne and Fand at the opposite end of the square. The elf-witch and the healer were surrounded by the wounded and dying. A short distance away, another of the Elven healers, Cethé, was similarly swamped. He glanced up and spying the Elven prince, waved him over.

"Where are the rest of the healers?" asked Nuada, without preamble, when he reached the other elf.

"There is only Fand and I left, Your Royal Highness," Cethé informed him in grim tones. "The rest are dead."

Nuada swore softly. Prior to the attack, there had been six healers in the Troll Market. Their loss was doubly devastating for its inhabitants; they'd be missed not only for themselves but also for the important role they'd played in this once-safe haven of the displaced.

"Máistreás Gràinne is ably assisting but still, we are overwhelmed," Cethé carried on. The weight of desperation was evident in his voice.

Elfraine cleared her throat. "It will involve some hard choices but perhaps the wounded need to be triaged," she suggested quietly.

The two elves turned to her, Nuada with an angry look and Cethé with an expression of dismay.

Before Nuada could say anything, Elfraine rushed on. "It is only a suggestion. The final decision rests with you, of course... and your remaining healers."

Nuada drew a harsh breath and looked around the square, thinking on her words. It went entirely against the grain to abandon any of his people, and such a decision meant that some would essentially be left to their fate but as he surveyed the wreckage of the Troll Market and heard the despairing sounds of the wounded and dying, he realised he had little choice in the matter. There were only two healers left and their skills needed to be directed to where they would be most effective.

He turned to Cethé. "What is your opinion?" he asked, with no real hope of any different answer; he could tell from the look on the healer's face that there would be no avoiding the hard decisions Elfraine talked of.

"As much as it pains me, Sir, I have to agree with... _her_ suggestion," replied Cethé as he flicked Elfraine a questioning glance.

"There is another way," called out Gràinne, who was kneeling over the wounded Elven warrior, Cearul, and trying to do what she could for him. "The human is the key."

Nuada, Elfraine and Cethé stared at the elf-witch.

"She possesses the magic of the dragons and through her we can use that magic, as we did in the days of old, to save those who will otherwise die," explained Gràinne, as she carefully covered the gaping wound in the fallen elf's belly with a length of cloth which had seen better days. "Those like Cearul here," she added, as she started to work the magic to ease his pain.

"Of course!" exclaimed Elfraine, turning to Nuada with a keen look. "We can do as we did when we saved Pop... that is to say, the young dragon!"

And though he'd vowed not much more than an hour or so beforehand that there would not be a next time for such a thing, Nuada assented to the idea now without reservation. "Very well. Máistreás Gràinne, you take charge of determining the priority for the wounded. Get whatever assistance you need for the job. Cethé, you and Fand see to those of the more seriously injured whom you may yet still help."

He turned to Elfraine. "You and I will tend to those who are beyond all other aid... starting with Cearul." Grabbing her hand, Nuada pulled her along in his wake as he strode over to Gràinne and the wounded Elven warrior.

The elf-witch rose to her feet and stepped aside. "You know how to do the thing?" she asked Nuada, with a questioning look. "I would not have thought you'd ever had the opportunity to learn."

Nuada immediately knew what she referred to. "I have recently had just such an opportunity," he informed her.

"Then all the better for our purposes now," said Gràinne as her still-questioning gaze flicked down briefly to Nuada and Elfraine's joined hands. She said nothing further through and merely inclined her head respectfully. She then started out in the direction of a group of strong-looking and relatively unscathed trolls some distance away; they would be perfect to assist her with her task.

Nuada released Elfraine's hand and knelt down beside Cearul. He gestured for her to take her place at the side of his wounded comrade.

She started to kneel but then hesitated as a sudden thought struck her. "There's one slight problem."

"What?" Nuada asked, sharply.

"If you recall, I'm unable to summon the dragon magic at will," she reminded him.

"Damn!" he swore softly.

"It's not an insurmountable obstacle though," Elfraine said, in a measured tone. "One solution springs readily to mind." She gave him a meaningful look.

He knotted his brow in a puzzled frown.

"You'll have to kill me... or at the very least, stick something sharp into me," she elucidated with a tight smile.

Nuada stared at her, speechless for a moment. "Surely such a drastic measure..." he started to say.

"And you'd best make it a decent wound," Elfraine continued, as though he hadn't spoken. "A mere scratch won't cut it at all, if you'll forgive the terrible pun. Anything that's not serious tends to heal without me even knowing it."

He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off once again. "You can take it from me, there is a definite difference. And if you're thinking of what happened with Poppet, I can assure you I felt as though my heart had been torn from my chest when I thought he was going to die... Um, unfortunately, I don't know ... Cearul, is it? I don't know him well enough to hold him in quite the same light," she added diffidently.

Nuada snapped his mouth shut and looked away, thinking hard.

Elfraine gave him a few seconds. "You might want to settle the matter quickly. I'm not sure he can hold on for much longer," she said gently as she cast a worried eye over the wounded elf; his skin had turned a sickly shade of grey and his breathing was so shallow as to be practically non-existent.

"Damn!" Nuada swore again, more forcefully this time; he was unable to think of any alternative. He looked up at Elfraine for a long moment, regret shadowing his golden eyes. "If there was any other way..." he said at last, bowing to the inevitable.

"I know," she sighed, her voice laced with resignation. "But apparently there isn't so we must both do what we have to. And besides," she added, trying to look on the bright side, "there'll be no lasting damage and it's not as if I'm not... used to it."

Nuada closed his eyes briefly and gave a short nod. He then stood and stepped away from Cearul. Facing Elfraine, he reached over his shoulder for his sword but hesitated again, his reluctance clearly written on his face.

Elfraine bit her lip. "We could always get Ælfweard to do the thing," she suggested. "I don't imagine he'd have the slightest qualm."

"No!" exclaimed Nuada sharply. "It should be done by someone who..." He paused briefly. "_I_ will do it," he continued. "However, I do not wish to use my sword."

"I think you'll find one sword is much the same as another," Elfraine said, with a wry look.

"And I think _you'll_ find that is not the case," Nuada corrected as he drew his blade and inspected it. A quick wipe-down had not been enough to clean it properly and traces of the dark blood of the enemy still remained. "As you can see, its design is unusual, even down to this." He touched a hook-shaped notch which had been cut into the length of the blade. "Its purpose is to catch an enemy's weapon but I imagine it might... it might catch on something inside you. It was designed to inflict as much damage as possible for the type of weapon it is." He didn't mention that he was the one who'd come up with the design, not long before he'd gone into exile all those years ago... and nor did he mention that the sword had been a bone of contention between his father and himself.

"Oh, I see," Elfraine murmured as she eyed the blade dubiously. Though she'd seen the sword before and used it only so very recently, she hadn't had time to dwell on the finer points of its construction much beyond weight and balance.

"I'd prefer to use something which will do the job more cleanly, and perhaps not cause quite so much harm to you," said Nuada, frowning slightly. The absurdity of his words struck him even as they left his mouth; if they were to heal the dying, he was obviously going to have to cause a great deal of harm to her, albeit temporary harm.

However, Elfraine only gave him a soft look of approval. "Oh, Nuada! Thank you," she whispered, touched by his concern to spare her any more pain than was necessary. Standing on tip toe, she reached up and pulled his head down to kiss him swiftly on the cheek. "Perhaps the Silverlance or your dagger might be better then," she suggested as she released him.

"No!" he exclaimed adamantly.

Elfraine raised her brow at the vehemence of his reply.

"Abraham has my dagger. When the demon and I returned from Blackstone Castle, he remained behind – to keep watch – and I thought he might find the weapon useful," Nuada elaborated, in a more measured tone.

Elfraine was still looking at him askance. There was nothing in his explanation which would account for the fierceness of his initial response to her suggestion.

"And I cannot risk using the Silverlance," he continued, his voice tight. "It... its wound may make you mortal."

Elfraine's eyes widened with surprise. "I – I see," she murmured softly.

A low moan from Cearul claimed their attention and forestalled any further questions or explanations.

"Well, as far as other weapons go, there is choice aplenty," Elfraine remarked quietly, echoing Nuada's earlier words to her. "Perhaps you're ready to make up your mind now, hmmm?"

It was a gentle prompt and Nuada took his cue. Re-sheathing his sword, he stepped back to his fallen comrade and leaned down to retrieve the sharp, gleaming dagger from Cearul's torn and bloodied sash. Then he straightened up and held out his hand to Elfraine. She took it without hesitation and he pulled her in close, turning her so that her back was to him. Wrapping one arm around her, he anchored her firmly against himself and bent his head to hers. "I _am_ sorry, Elfraine," he said in a low voice, his dark lips lightly brushing her hair and his warm breath softly feathering her ear.

And as she twisted her neck to look up at him over her shoulder – her mouth parted on a breathy "oh" of surprise at his use of her name, and her eyes aglow with lambent delight – he swiftly reached round and drove the dagger up into her left armpit, severing the artery there and visiting death upon her in an instant. Her eyes widened in shock at the blow and she stiffened in his arms. Nuada held her fading gaze as he pulled the blade back out, and then her eyelids fluttered shut and she went limp, the life flowing fast from her body. He released his grip on the dagger and it fell from his fingers, landing on the flagstones of the square with a dull clang.

Still holding her tightly, he dropped swiftly to his knees at Cearul's side. With his knife hand now free, he grasped hold of Elfraine's hand and entwined his fingers in hers. Then he leaned forward with her and placed their joined hands on the wounded elf's chest. As he began to summon his own magic, he felt the dragon magic stir in Elfraine and suddenly, the cataclysmic torrent was upon him once more. Burying his face in her hair, he surrendered to the vast web of enchantment and as the force of life and creation raged all around him and through him, Nuada couldn't have said where he ended and Elfraine began. And yet, as before, in the midst of such energy and vitality there flitted just beyond the reach of consciousness, an indiscernible sense of something wanting... something missing, almost.

... ...

He said it, Elfraine thought to herself with wonder. Her heart lurched and a warm feeling radiated through her at the sound of her name on his lips. As she turned her head to look up at Nuada, she was surprised by a sharp blow to her underarm and she tensed for a moment. It briefly occurred to her that he'd dealt her the decent wound she'd spoken of but she was otherwise so distracted by his unanticipated utterance that she forgot entirely to lend her will to the dragon magic and hasten things along. As the black tide of death rose up to engulf her, she suddenly realised it wasn't the first time he'd said her name or even the second; his was the voice that had called to her as she'd blazed in the incandescent sun after they'd dragged the young dragon back from the brink.

And then there was no more time to think about anything beyond the immediate moment. A raging torrent of white-gold magic and light crashed through her, entwining her in an endless web of transcendent beauty such as she'd never thought to imagine... and he was there with her, she realised. She could feel him in her heart and in her soul, and she _knew_ him with every fibre of her being. And in the sublime perfection of a moment which would surely last forever, Elfraine gave herself up to the embrace of Eternity.

... ...

As before, the cataclysm ceased as suddenly as it had started. This time, however, Nuada knew no confusion; it was a magic he'd been born to work and now that he'd experienced it, it was as natural to him as breathing. It was a part of his birthright he'd never been able to claim and he'd always bitterly resented that fact; its loss was yet another transgression to lay at the feet of the old enemy. The magic of the _Fairtheoirí Dragan Mór_ was required in order to defy death but by the time he was old enough and skilled enough to attempt such a feat, the great dragons had disappeared from the world, and then humankind had gradually and systematically exterminated the younger ones, thus obliterating any chance he might have had to one day come into the full inheritance of his powers.

Elfraine stirred in his arms and claimed his attention. Sitting back on his heels, he turned her so that she was resting on his thigh and adjusted his hold on her so he could better support her until she recovered. An air of enchantment still clung to her and as with the first time, Nuada found himself utterly beguiled by the combined effect of both the magic and the woman herself. As he gazed at her, it struck him that but for her - a human – a vital part of his heritage would have remained forever lost to him. And then he remembered that she would be leaving soon and though she'd entrusted him with the care of the young dragons, thereby gifting him with the hope of once again using his powers to their full extent some day in the far distant future, yet she would be taking with her all chance of using them now.

Nuada frowned at the thought... and at the next two; he acknowledged to himself that he was no longer as ambivalent about working such magic with Elfraine as he had been earlier and most troubling of all, he now knew he'd miss her for far more than what she'd be taking with her when she went. However, before he could ponder the matter further, Cearul groaned and moved restlessly.

Nuada quickly turned his attention to his comrade. Though Cearul's wounds had completely disappeared, the warrior was not yet fully recovered. Dragons obviously rallied more quickly than elves, Nuada thought to himself as he recalled _Poppet's_ almost instantaneous recovery earlier in the evening.

He felt Elfraine move again in his arms and looked back down at her to find her staring up at him, her brown eyes once more shimmering with fading flecks of gold as the last traces of the magic they'd worked together disappeared. He threaded his fingers through her hair and gently pushed the thick tresses back from her face then leaned down and fitted his mouth to hers as his hand slipped around to cradle her cheek. It was only meant to be a small token of affection but Elfraine parted her lips under his and, powerless to resist the temptation, he deepened the kiss and pulled her tightly into the cradle of his legs, wanting to taste and feel everything of her that he could.

A short distance away, someone cried out - not to him but it was enough to recall Nuada to his senses. With an effort, he broke off their kiss and rested his forehead against Elfraine's. "I trust there are no unwelcome side-effects this time," he murmured as he struggled to rein in the insistent urgings of his passion.

"N-no," she whispered breathlessly, grasping hold of his wrist, almost as if it were an anchor. "None at all."

Nuada lifted his head and gazed down at her, his eyes a warm gold and the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smile. "Good. I am glad of that," he told her.

He'd expected a smile in return and indeed, for a fleeting moment he thought he could see the beginnings of one playing about her lips so he was surprised when it came to nothing. Instead, Elfraine's eyes suddenly flared with a strange, luminous light, and then an almost pained expression settled on her face. He tilted his head and his own eyes spoke the question, but her eyelids fluttered down, veiling her thoughts and feelings, and she glanced away towards Cearul, without any attempt at an explanation. All Nuada could think was that perhaps there were some faint, lingering side-effects from the magic after all and, after one last considering look at her, he too turned his gaze to his old comrade-in-arms.

... ...

A feeling of distress rose up to choke her and Elfraine didn't know where to look or what to say. Finally, she settled on the supine form of Cearul as being a safe enough refuge for her eyes though in respect of her voice, she could in no way say the same of any words which sprang to mind and so she said nothing. She tried to make sense of what had just happened but her brain appeared incapable of rational thought.

After she'd realised Nuada was with her in the amaranthine web of magic, everything in Eternity had coalesced and Elfraine had found herself, for the second time that night, in a place which seemed to her to be Heaven. When she'd opened her eyes, he was still there with her, and she was still in Heaven. Then he'd kissed her and asked after her, and given her such a look as was already burned into her memory for all time and all at once, it was the turn of everything on Earth to coalesce and be made right.

She was about to give him a smile in return, when it suddenly struck her just how dear he was to her, and an incredible joy blossomed in her heart at the realisation... until she remembered that for her, there would be no memories for all time; time was the one thing she'd have to give up if she was to finally put things right by her daughter. Whereas before Elfraine would have relinquished it all without regret, it now began to dawn on her that she would be leaving this world with a great deal of regret if she was successful, and she could only look at Nuada in quiet despair.

He'd asked her if there were any side-effects from the magic this time and she'd told him there were none. She'd misspoken, she realised; there had, in fact, been a terrible side-effect. The veil had been torn from her eyes and she saw now what she'd been blind to before. As surely as night follows day, Elfraine had just discovered that Nuada had the one thing of her she was certain he _didn't_ want, the one thing she'd been certain she would _never_ give to any man again. For without even turning her mind to it, she'd fallen headlong and hopelessly in love with him.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Cethé: (Irish Gaelic) name of one of the sons of Dian Cécht, the Irish God of healing (healer to the Tuatha Dé Danann, or "peoples of the Goddess Danu".)

Máistreás: (Irish Gaelic) Mistress.

Triage: (from the French 'trier', meaning 'to separate' or 'to split') a system of determining the priority patients should be given for receiving treatment when there are not enough resources to treat all patients at once. The system was developed by French doctors treating wounded soldiers during World War I. They built upon work carried out by a French surgeon during the Napoleonic Wars (1803-1815). At its most basic, victims are separated into three categories:  
>Those who are likely to live, regardless of what care they receive;<br>Those who are likely to die, regardless of what care they receive;  
>Those for whom immediate care might make a positive difference in outcome.<p>

The artery Nuada severs when he stabs Elfraine is the axillary artery, which is located in the armpit and is a major blood vessel leading from the heart.

Na Fairtheoirí Dragan Mór: (Irish Gaelic) The Great Dragon Sentinels.

"As surely as night follows day" – paraphrasing of 'And it must follow, as the night the day' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act I, Scene III.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:  
><strong>A big thank you to the reviewers of recent chapters. I appreciate your feedback.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI


	42. Chapter 41

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 41**

Elfraine gazed at Cearul though she didn't really see him. Instead, her mind was working furiously to make sense of her unruly feelings. After four centuries, and especially after her experience with Gretheved all those years ago, she couldn't believe she'd been so foolish as to fall in love again. Not that she thought Nuada was anything like her hated third husband... but still, no one knew better than she that love was blind, and in any case, love had no place in her life. Thinking back, it wasn't even as if she'd been entirely unaware of the danger the Elven warrior posed to her peace of mind, such as it was. Only two days ago, when he'd held her in the grounds of the BPRD, much as he had just now, and kissed her – barely a kiss, really - she'd had the sense to recognise him as a troublesome distraction. But somehow, in the mad rush of events perhaps, she'd forgotten her initial apprehension. _And look at where your oversight has gotten you now_, she castigated her careless mind. She could have still enjoyed his company but she realised she should have set a better guard on her heart.

Nuada spoke but Elfraine could not have repeated what he said, so distracted was she. All she knew was that the low, husky timbre of his voice caught her unawares as it reverberated through her body, making her heart beat faster and causing her belly to clench with a spasm of yearning so sharp it bordered on pain. She closed her eyes against the feelings and fisted her hands in her lap.

Which was a mistake, because she suddenly realised just where she was sitting and then all she could think about was how the hard, muscles of his thigh underneath her and his arm around her waist burned into her, even through the layers of their clothing. A warm, melting feeling washed through her, and she couldn't get close enough to him. She wanted to know all of him again in the way she had when they'd been together in the vast web of enchantment, and she wanted him in her bed again, to make love to him in the fullness of her newly-discovered feelings. Her heart urged her confess her love... and tell him she'd take whatever he had to offer for however long he wanted to offer it. _You settled on a month but if he still wants you for a hundred years then he can have you for a hundred years_, whispered that wayward organ as she considered, for the briefest instant, agreeing to Nuada's original terms and delaying her attempt to restore to Fortune the life that should have, _would_ have, been her daughter's but for the foul creature Elfraine had married.

Horrified, she bit back a despairing moan as she wondered how on earth she'd come to such a point. It was bad enough that she'd agreed to one month but to even think about one hundred years... The very idea of making her daughter wait so long was anathema to her, and that she'd just considered doing that very thing, albeit for only the most fleeting of moments, played painfully on the guilt she already carried in respect of Fortune's fate. She swore to herself it would not happen again - it _could_ not happen again.

Cearul groaned once more and for a split second Elfraine thought the distressed sound was hers, so closely did it echo her own turbulent feelings. Startled out of her dark musings, she opened her eyes only to find herself staring at the now-recovered elf as he struggled up onto his elbows and stared right back at her, a questioning frown on his face.

God's blood! What he must make of me, she thought to herself as she met the stranger's bemused golden gaze. A faint blush kissed her cheeks though in truth, she was glad of the excuse to put aside her chaotic, treacherous thoughts and concentrate on something else instead.

"How are you, my friend?" asked Nuada as he reached out with his free hand to clasp Cearul's shoulder. "We had feared you lost."

Elfraine had no trouble comprehending Nuada's words now, and a soft look lit her eyes as it occurred to her she could listen to him talk forever if given half the chance... Her lips quickly compressed into a thin line as she pulled herself up sharply at the errant thought.

"I – I certainly don't feel as though I've been lying at Death's door," replied Cearul, still staring in confusion at the human woman who appeared to have made herself at home on the Elven prince's lap. His old friend and captain didn't seem in the least bit angry or repulsed, and he most certainly didn't look as if he was planning on killing the human any time soon. _In fact_... Cearul shook his head in bewilderment; Nuada had his arm anchored firmly around the woman's waist and he'd be damned if the prince wasn't absentmindedly caressing her hip! He only just stopped himself from snorting in disbelief at the sight, turning the expression into a cough instead at the last moment.

Perhaps the rumours were true after all, he thought as he gave Nuada a narrow look. When Ælfweard had first informed him their old friend and leader was now on the side of humanity after somehow being brought back to life along with his sister, Cearul hadn't believed the other elf. Over four difficult months, during which the case against the prince had only grown stronger with each passing day, he'd been one of the few who'd remained resolute in their defence of their old comrade. Whatever Nuada was up to, and Nuada had _always_ played his cards close to his chest, Cearul would have wagered his life that his friend hadn't abandoned his people and sided with the humans. However, looking at the Elven prince now, he began to know a gnawing doubt and was suddenly glad he'd never made that bet.

Nuada misunderstood the reason for Cearul's bewilderment. "Rest easy, my friend. The confusion you feel is no doubt due to what you have just been through."

"That is only a _small _part of what has me perplexed," Cearul assured him pointedly, as he continued to stare at Elfraine.

The real cause for the other elf's confusion became apparent to Nuada and it was his turn to narrow his eyes. "I have yet to introduce you to your saviour," he remarked coolly.

Cearul appeared surprised at that but he merely inclined his head respectfully. He could recognise an approaching storm when he saw one and in this instance, he preferred to avoid it for the moment. "Perhaps you would care to remedy that oversight now, Your Royal Highness," he suggested carefully.

Nuada looked suspiciously at his old friend. He knew from long experience that Cearul's words often cloaked another meaning entirely but in this instance, he was unable to see any other way in which they could be taken. He was about to reply when Gràinne approached them.

She'd heard the tail end of their conversation and now added her voice to it. "I too have yet to be properly introduced," she informed Nuada, with a touch of asperity.

Nuada realised the _cailleach feasa_ was right. When they'd visited the Troll Market two nights ago, he'd been more concerned that Elfraine keep her mouth shut than that he introduce her properly to any of his people. It was time to remedy that. He took hold of her hips and lifted her up with him as he rose smoothly to his feet. With one hand at her waist, he turned her to face the other two elves. Cearul had gained his feet by this time and now stood next to Gràinne.

"Lady Wylde, I would like to present to you Máistreás Gràinne na Cinn Aosta and Cearul na Gardaí Tí," said Nuada, with courtly ease and polished politeness.

Taking their cue from him, Gràinne dipped in a small, formal curtsey whilst Cearul inclined his head and briefly lowered his eyes in a gesture of perfunctory respect.

Nuada continued to speak, now addressing Gràinne and Cearul. "And it is my honour to introduce you both to the Lady Elfraine Somerled, Countess of Wylde." His mouth curled slightly as it occurred to him that Elfraine was certainly right on one head; some things came easily enough with practise, her name being a case in point.

Gràinne and Cearul shared a startled look on hearing the human woman's given name but wisely held their tongues.

Despite her best intentions, Elfraine couldn't help but give Nuada a soft, luminous look as she savoured the sound of it on his lips once more. She was also a little surprised – and a great deal touched - that he'd unhesitatingly accorded her the privilege of her rank and title, and used her name first in the introductions.

_Stop it_! she told herself sternly as, once again, she had to rein in her runaway thoughts. Thankfully, the dictates of courtesy demanded a response and so she forced her capricious mind to the matter of manners instead. "I am pleased we are properly introduced at last, Mistress Gràinne," said Elfraine, with a smile. "And likewise pleased to make your acquaintance, Cearul, though I wish it were under less distressing circumstances," she added graciously, and with genuine feeling, as she extended her hand, first to Gràinne and then to Cearul.

Gràinne returned the gesture without hesitation and Cearul paused only very briefly before accepting Elfraine's proffered hand.

"My Lady," he murmured as he bowed over it. The introductions dispensed with, Cearul then turned back to Nuada. "You mentioned something of Lady Wylde's role in my, err, miraculous recovery..." he essayed.

"The Lady has the magic of the dragons in her," Nuada explained, without preamble and to Cearul's great surprise. "Together, we were able to work the ancient enchantments required to save your life."

Cearul swung his gaze back to Elfraine again. "I-I see," he murmured, his voice rife with a dozen questions. "Th-thank you."

"It's a long story," Elfraine said, with a ghost of a smile. "And you're welcome."

"But it's a story I would very much like to hear at some stage," broke in Gràinne, giving Elfraine a pointed look. Though she'd glimpsed into the human's mind when they first met two nights ago and had learned a great deal, yet there was still much which had been hidden from her.

"If time permits," replied Elfraine non-committally.

"How did you get on triaging the wounded?" Nuada asked Gràinne, turning his mind back to the more pressing matters now facing them.

"The trolls and I are still working our way through the task," Gràinne replied, after giving Elfraine one last thoughtful look. "There are some wounded on the far side of the square who will need the help of both yourself and Lady Wylde. Without it, they will certainly die." She gestured towards a small group of Fae who were surrounded by obviously distressed friends and loved ones. "The trolls will no doubt bring more as we find them."

Nuada took hold of Elfraine's hand once more and gazed down at her. "Are you ready?" he asked, the concern and regret evident in his voice and in his eyes.

As she looked up at him, Elfraine knew she was fighting a losing battle; try as she might, her feelings wouldn't be denied. She decided in that instant to give them full rein... but only until the agreed month was up.

A gentle squeeze on her hand prompted her for an answer. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied quietly.

"Is there something amiss?" asked Gràinne as her brows knitted together in puzzlement.

"It seems the dragon magic is not mine to command, rather it commands me," Elfraine explained with a rueful half-smile.

"I-I'm not sure I understand," remarked the _cailleach feasa_, still frowning slightly.

"She cannot summon the magic at will," said Nuada succinctly. "It requires a killing blow or, at the very least, a serious blow to call it forth, though once called she can then lend her will to it... in a limited fashion."

Elfraine's head went up at that and she shot him a disgruntled look. She might want to listen to his voice forever but not if he was going to use it to call her 'limited'... even if it _was_ true, as in this particular instance. She opened her mouth to object but Gràinne spoke before she could get a word out.

"Oh! I see!" the elf-witch exclaimed. "So, in your recent opportunity to practice such magic, you did not call it forth using more... traditional means..."

"Are you saying that it may be summoned without resorting to such drastic measures?" Nuada asked, with a touch of incredulity.

Gràinne appeared lost in thought and didn't answer his question. "It is not really all that surprising, I suppose," she murmured instead, her brows creasing slightly. "The _Fairtheoirí Dragan Mór_ were all gone from this world by the time you would have been old enough and skilled enough to have learnt such a thing in the normal course of events."

"But I may do it?" Nuada asked once again, more insistently this time.

"Any of our kind may do such a thing," replied Gràinne, setting aside her reflections and giving him her full attention. "As long as they have reached a sufficient level of skill in the practice of their art, and have been shown how. Unfortunately, there are very few of us left who know the old ways... and of course, until now, we'd thought the opportunities lost to us forever anyway," she added, glancing across to Elfraine with a questioning look.

Elfraine gave her a bright smile which held more than a hint of relief. "By all means, work your magic with me to your heart's content," she told the other woman. "You'll find me more than willing to cooperate, especially if it means I can avoid being run through with something sharp."

"Thank you," replied the elf-witch graciously. "I need to finish sorting the wounded for now but I will share my knowledge with the prince so that you and he may continue saving those who'd otherwise die. Perhaps later, though, I will take you up on your generous offer."

Elfraine started to nod her head, and then stopped as a rather unsettling thought suddenly occurred to her. "Um, there is one thing though," she said hesitantly.

"Yes?" inquired Gràinne.

"Is it – is it usually such a... an intimate experience?" she asked delicately, a tinge of pink touching her cheeks. She was thinking of what she'd shared with Nuada in the web of enchantment, and she most definitely didn't want to become as closely entwined with every, or indeed, _any_ other elf who sought to use the dragon magic with her.

Nuada started to scowl at her question while Cearul listened on with great interest.

Gràinne appeared startled for a moment and then a sly smile slid across her face. "Ah ha! I suspected as much!" she exclaimed triumphantly, remembering how she'd noted them holding hands only a little while earlier and paying especial attention to how they were holding each other now. "You are lovers," she said bluntly as she looked from Elfraine to Nuada.

"That is no one's business but...," Nuada started to say sternly, for the second time that night.

"Well, yes," admitted Elfraine, somehow managing to be heard over him.

Nuada swiftly dropped his hand from her waist and snapped his mouth shut, his lips forming a thin line of displeasure. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared daggers down at her unsuspecting head. "Lady Wylde," he bit out.

Her eyes flew up to his.

"Whilst _you_ might not hesitate to air every last item of business in public, _I _am not in the habit of discussing my affairs with all and sundry," he informed her coldly.

Elfraine was taken aback by his icy tone and harsh words but not for long. "Nor am I, sirrah," she replied, a touch of frost coating her own voice. "However, I would like to reassure myself on one or two points before I go _lending_ myself to 'all and sundry'... No offense intended, Mistress Gràinne," she added, flashing a quick look of apology at the elf-witch.

"None taken, Lady Wylde," Gràinne murmured.

"I am sorry if this discussion offends _your_ modesty," Elfraine continued sharply, addressing Nuada once more. "But I think my own stands in danger of the greater outrage!"

Nuada's scowl only deepened; she was right. "Put her out of her misery," he commanded Gràinne tersely as he unfolded his arms and clamped one around Elfraine's waist again. _And me with her_, he thought to himself. If there was even the slightest chance of her sharing herself with someone else as she had done with him in the web of magic, then she would not be _lending_ herself to anyone... except him.

Gràinne ruthlessly suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at Nuada, and did as she was bid. "You would have only found the experience as intimate as you did because you were already lovers and therefore open to each other in that way. It would not have been like that otherwise," she explained laconically.

"Well, that is good to know," murmured Elfraine, her equanimity restored by Gràinne's assurances. She leaned into Nuada and put her arms around his waist. "Pax, lover?" she whispered, as she looked up at him with a half-teasing, half-apologetic smile.

Nuada bowed his head in defeat, unable to hold onto his annoyance and unable to withstand her entreaty. "Pax," he agreed, as he tightened his arm around her waist and gave her a self-deprecatory smile in return. "Lover."

His voice softly caressed the word and Elfraine felt herself go weak at the knees. She could only be thankful he had a good hold of her because she doubted she could have stood on her own.

"Now," Gràinne said briskly, turning to the business at hand. "There is much to be done and the sooner you get started, the better." She addressed her next words to Nuada. "Come, Prince. You are certainly more than ready for such work and it will not take long to show you how to do it." She then turned and headed for a quiet spot, a short distance away, and Nuada released Elfraine and followed her. Once there, they faced each other and started to talk in low, hushed tones.

Elfraine strained to hear what was being said but couldn't so she contented herself with admiring Nuada instead... which was no hardship at all for her. Despite the dust and the dirt and the blood, he still cut a fine figure and she was more than happy to let her eyes rest on him for a while.

"You might want to remember to breathe," a voice murmured dryly from somewhere above her head.

Elfraine jumped in surprise and suddenly recalled Cearul's presence. She turned to give him an abashed look, drawing a deep breath as she did so. He was quite right; she _had_ almost forgotten to breathe, so absorbed was she in contemplating the view before her. "A very timely reminder, thank you, sir," she said, giving him one of her most winsome smiles.

Cearul merely arched his brow and stared at her impassively.

Elfraine's friendly expression vanished in an instant. "Will none of you elves be charmed by a smile," she muttered under her breath, as she turned back to watch Nuada... and Gràinne.

Cearul fired a quick look of disbelief at the top of her head before returning his own gaze to the prince and the elf-witch. "Come now, Lady Wylde. You can't say there are _none_ of us who have fallen under your spell," he muttered back, fixing his eyes firmly, and pointedly, on Nuada.

Elfraine glanced up at him in sharp, feminine enquiry. "Do you think so?" she asked, pouncing on his words.

Cearul immediately recognised his mistake and attempted to rectify it. "Surely _you_ would know that better than I," he replied in an aloof tone which, with anyone else, would have succeeded in discouraging any further questions. However, he underestimated both Elfraine's interest in the subject and her determination to have an answer from him, and suddenly, he found himself in the firing line.

"Not at all, good sir," she replied, ignoring his coolness and turning the full force of her not inconsiderable charm on him. "Based on the short duration of my... acquaintance with the prince, I feel I _cannot_ make such an observation. You, I take it, have the benefit of long-standing friendship and therefore a much deeper insight into his mind, surely. I imagine you are more qualified than me to comment on the matter, hmmm? And besides," she added quickly, with just the barest hint of a threat in her tone, "you might as well finish what you've started."

Cearul shifted uneasily. He had her undivided attention now and although she was smiling up at him in what _seemed_ to be a frank and friendly fashion, he could see the hard edge of determination lurking just beneath the surface. Suddenly, he felt like nothing so much as a large mouse backed into a tight corner by a small cat. "It is really not a matter I can comment on," he equivocated, the discomfort clear in his voice.

"Ah, I understand," she murmured, with almost convincing sympathy. "You don't want to be seen to be _telling tales out of school_, as it were." She paused briefly. "However, I assure you, you may trust me to be discreet with any information you might care to share." That last was accompanied with another winning smile which invited Cearul's confidences.

Of which he had none – at least, not for her. In fact, Cearul was beginning to fervently wish he'd never replied to her off-hand remark about elves and smiles and the like. It was rapidly dawning on him that his unthinking response had only inadvertently landed him in a thorny thicket of feminine artifice and intrigue, and he felt singularly ill-equipped to make his way out of it in the face of such persistence as Lady Wylde was presently showing. On the one hand, he did not want to be rude to her – she had helped save his life after all, and too, she appeared to have the prince's ear - but nor did he want to answer any questions she might have about Nuada. To do so would be to go against the long-standing and unspoken code of honour practised by himself and his old comrades in which they closed ranks and guarded each other's backs, without question and whenever necessary, even against – and sometimes, especially against - the ladies. It was an invidious position, indeed, and Cearul knew there was going to be no easy way out. And judging by the keen, predatory look in the human woman's eyes, she knew it too.

Elfraine had just opened her mouth to press him further for his opinion, and whatever other personal information about Nuada she could wheedle out of him, when the Gods took pity on Cearul. A sudden wave of soft golden light caught their attention, and Cearul and Elfraine turned, almost as one, to stare at Gràinne and Nuada.

The _cailleach feasa_ and the prince were facing each other, their arms held up before their chests and the palms of their hands touching. The golden light in which they were bathed flared briefly then vanished, and after a moment they dropped their hands back to their sides. Some few more words were exchanged and then they turned and headed back to Elfraine and Cearul.

"We have work to do," said Nuada when they reached them, "and we'd best move quickly." He took hold of Elfraine's hand once more. "It will go much easier for you now," he promised her, his mouth quirking in a half-smile.

"Mmmm. That's good," she murmured as she gazed up dreamily at him. The lift of his lips utterly captivated her and she suddenly found herself wishing he'd kiss her. But of course, that was out of the question for the moment.

Something in her manner caught Nuada's attention. It occurred to him that she hadn't been quite herself in the little while since they'd saved Cearul but he couldn't put his finger on anything specific and so he let it go. With a shake of his head, he turned his attention back to Gràinne.

"I will leave you to continue with your task," he said. "Once you've finished, lend a hand to Fand and Cethé."

Gràinne nodded in assent.

"Cearul, you can assist Máistreás Gràinne," Nuada continued.

"Of course," agreed Cearul hastily, and with obvious relief.

Nuada glanced at him sharply; his old friend didn't seem quite himself either. But this was not the time to wonder at it; there were the wounded to be seen to. With a brief nod at Cearul and Gràinne, he turned and strode off towards the group of injured Fae, dragging Elfraine along with him.

As she hurried after Nuada, Elfraine called out over her shoulder to Gràinne and Cearul. "We will see you later. Oh, and Cearul..."

He unthinkingly turned his head and glanced her way.

"We must continue our conversation," she continued, with a wicked smile and a wave.

Cearul glowered at her retreating back. _Not if _I_ can help it_, he vowed to himself.

**... ...**

It was some little while later that Nuada and Elfraine finished healing the last of the mortally wounded and, as Nuada had promised, it did go much easier on Elfraine now that he knew how to call forth the dragon magic without having to resort to such drastic measures as killing her. After they'd revived the last of those who would have otherwise died, he took her by the hand and led her to a low wall in front of what had once been a cloth merchant's stall. The wreckage of the jobber's life lay strewn all around. Once-glistening pins and buttons and other items of haberdashery along with bolts of brightly-coloured cotton and intricately-embroidered silk, damaged beyond all use now, were scattered about the ground.

Nuada lifted Elfraine onto the wall and stood before her. She looked the same as she ever did but he thought he detected in the dark depths of her eyes, a tiredness which he hadn't hitherto seen. "You are weary?" he asked as he pushed back the hair from her face.

She looked slightly surprised at the question. "No... at least, not physically," she replied, with a half-smile. "It's an unavoidable, um, benefit of my condition."

"Still, such a time as we've had of it this night takes its toll, and exhaustion of the body is not the only kind of fatigue which can prey on us," he murmured, knowing only all too well the weariness of mind that could also set a person back.

"It has indeed been a day which I would never have imagined," she agreed quietly. "Not in four hundred years or even in four thousand. There is at least one bright spot in amongst everything though."

"Yes?" he enquired, the merest breath of doubt ghosting the word.

"We were able to save some lives which would have been otherwise lost," Elfraine answered as she held her hands out in front of her and looked down at them. "I never knew... never even suspected such a thing was possible."

Nuada took her outstretched hands in his and raised them to his lips. "Nor did I," he said, lifting his head and capturing her eyes. "I had thought such a possibility lost forever to this world."

"I'm glad you've been proven wrong," she remarked with a slight smile. "Actually managing to heal the wounded is a vast improvement on simply holding their hands until they die. I've done enough of that these past four hundred years. And to think I had it in me all along to help them..." she tailed off pensively.

Nuada realised he knew next to nothing of her life between the day she was hung and now, and he decided then and there to remedy that in the near future. But for the present, he wanted nothing more than to chase away the melancholy look on her face and see her smile again instead. He stepped into the vee of her legs and bent his head to hers, surprising her with a warm, firm kiss. Releasing her hands, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close to him. The heat of her feminine core burned through the layers of their clothing and he felt himself start to stir in response.

Elfraine moaned against his lips and, slipping her hands under his hair, clasped her arms around the back of his neck. She pressed herself against his growing hardness and opened her mouth to him, insensible to everything but the taste, scent and feel of him.

A low groan of need reverberated in Nuada's chest and he deepened their kiss, sweeping his tongue into her soft, warm mouth and tightening his arms around her until she thought he would snap her in half. And yet still, she wanted more of him.

Suddenly, a harsh, angry voice called out, sharply intruding on their intimate idyll. "_Your Royal Highness_!"

Elfraine froze at the sound whilst Nuada swore viciously and half-turned to meet the threat. He relaxed a little when he saw it was only Ælfweard. It was just as well it was not a more serious menace; Elfraine still had her arms wrapped tightly around him and she would have only slowed him down had more direct action been necessary.

He turned back to her and reached up to take hold of her hands whilst drawing a deep, steadying breath. "This is probably neither the time nor the place," he murmured huskily, the regret clear in his voice and in his eyes as he gently disengaged her arms from around his neck.

"Y-You are right," she conceded in breathy, tremulous tones. "And to think we were each of us worried about our modesty before. I'd say we verily threw it to the wind just now."

His mouth quirked in a half-smile at that and, unable to help himself, Nuada leaned down and gave her a swift, hard kiss on the lips.

An audible snort of derision came from behind him and Nuada turned to fix Ælfweard with a fierce, golden look.

"Don't push me, _old friend_," he warned the other elf tersely.

Ælfweard held his gaze for a long, tense moment and then nodded jerkily in acknowledgment of the Elven prince's words. "I came to report on the burial detail," he said curtly.

"How does it go?" asked Nuada, his tone immediately becoming sombre. Behind Ælfweard, he could see a detachment of Fae carrying the large body of an unfortunate troll who had obviously not survived the battle.

Ælfweard turned and followed the line of Nuada's eyes. "He is the last one," he replied. "The final toll was not as high as I'd feared though it was high enough," he added grimly.

Nuada had just opened his mouth to speak again when suddenly, Elfraine gasped in dismay. She jumped down off the wall and, pushing past Nuada and Ælfweard, made for the body of the troll. "Oh no," she murmured, with quiet sorrow. The other Fae carrying the body stopped for her, giving her questioning looks as Nuada and Ælfweard followed in her wake.

"You know him?" asked Nuada with some surprise.

"In a manner of speaking," replied Elfraine. "He was one of the first to fight by my side when we arrived, and he was a very brave and capable comrade-in-arms. The last I saw of him was when we were coming to lend a hand with those demonic creatures. I am saddened to see that he met with this end, especially after all that he did. I... I didn't even know his name."

The Elven prince looked at the troll but didn't recognise him. He must have arrived in the _Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór_ sometime during the last four years; Nuada would have certainly known him otherwise.

"He was Bøygen of the Bjergtrolde," said Ælfweard, grudgingly. "And you are... _right_." The word tasted bitter on his tongue. "He was a very brave and capable fighter."

"Th-thank you," murmured Elfraine, surprised that the elf had volunteered the information albeit reluctantly. "For his name," she added quickly. Turning back to the body of the troll, she laid her hand on his cold, lifeless shoulder. "Farewell Bøygen of the Bjergtrolde. If ever there was a place in Valhalla, amongst the Einherjar, then you have surely earned it. May you fight, feast and love well, until Ragnarök."

It was Ælfweard's turn to be surprised. A dozen questions crowded his mind but he held his peace and held firm to his determination to find nothing worthy of redemption in the human before him.

With her eyes fixed firmly on the ground, Elfraine stepped back and Nuada gestured for the Fae to continue on with the body of their fallen comrade.

After another few quick glances in Elfraine's direction, they did just that and Ælfweard followed them, his mouth set in a grim line.

Nuada continued to stare after the group for a moment or two, and then turned back to Elfraine. "Those were good words you said for the Bjergtrolde," he told her.

She merely shrugged and kept her eyes downcast.

Her uncharacteristic silence surprised him; she was usually more forthcoming with her views than this. Catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he lifter her head to get a better look at her and was surprised once again, this time to see tears glistening on her eyelashes. He tilted his head in silent question.

Elfraine swiped self-consciously at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You'd think I'd be used to this sort of thing by now," she said, by way of attempted excuse.

Nuada stared silently at her for a moment and then reached up with his thumb to wipe away a tear she'd missed. "It is nothing to be ashamed of," he told her softly.

She shrugged again, not at all convinced. "After everything I've seen and done... after all that's happened, it really shouldn't affect me like this... I am just not made for it," she said, her lips twisting in condemnation of her weakness.

He lifted his hand again and this time traced the outline of her mouth with his fingers, smoothing away the bitter lines of self-recrimination. "What _are_ you are made for then, I wonder," he murmured.

She pulled back and looked up into his eyes, a little surprised he could even ask. "Family and friends... home and hearth," she answered, without hesitation. "What else is there?"

Her words brought him up short for a moment, and then a sudden spark of golden warmth flared in the depths of his eyes. Unable to ignore the insistent need, he bent his head and touched his lips to hers. "What else, indeed," he whispered against her mouth.

"Prince Nuada," a voice called out.

Nuada closed his eyes briefly and bit back a curse. "Yes," he hissed impatiently, as his head snapped up and he sought out the source of the interruption. It was the Elven healer Cethé, and right behind him were Gràinne, Fand and Cearul.

"We have done all that we can," said Cethé as he and the others reached Nuada and Elfraine.

"I see I do not need to ask how you two got on with the mortally wounded," remarked Gràinne, surveying the wider scene with satisfaction. There was no one around who looked to be in the slightest danger of departing this world just yet.

Before either Nuada or Elfraine could reply, Fand stepped forward. "It is good to see you again, Nu – _Prince_ Nuada," she said, hastily correcting herself. She didn't bother to curtsey or make any other gesture of deference to the prince's rank.

And in that instant, Elfraine knew Nuada and Fand had been lovers; the Elven healer's familiar greeting and her slip of the tongue had done their job.

"I am sorry we did not get the chance to speak earlier," the other woman continued. "I hope we may remedy that soon."

Once again, Elfraine understood what the healer wished her to know, and her gaze flew to Nuada to gauge his reaction.

He merely inclined his head politely and impassively, giving no sign to Elfraine's watchful eye of there still being anything between himself and Fand - indeed, of there ever having _been_ anything between them, though Elfraine knew that was not the case – and she breathed a little easier.

But Fand was not quite ready to give up yet. "Oh, I must tell you now though!" she exclaimed, as if struck by a sudden, urgent thought that just couldn't wait. "I saw one of your friends the other night - the cabalus. He said you'd sent him to see me. He was quite worried about his health and you'll be pleased to know I was able to reassure him he was fine. It seems he ate something... _nasty_." She slid a sideways look at Elfraine.

"Ah! That would be me," drawled Elfraine, picking up the gauntlet and meeting the attack head on. Giving Fand a hard, brittle smile, she took a step forward and forced the Elven woman to take one backwards.

It suddenly dawned on Nuada that he was witnessing a skirmish of sorts and for an instant he was puzzled. However, he quickly realised what lay behind it, and a wary expression settled on his face as, without warning, he found himself on very shaky ground indeed. He'd never thought there was a fight from which he would flinch but he now discovered the fallacy of his thinking; this was just such a one right here.

Elfraine gave him a sharp look, which led him to understand that she expected him to do something... but for the life of him, he didn't know what. He noticed, with some irritation, that Fand was giving him a similar sort of look though as far as he was concerned, she had even less reason to do so.

He looked to Cearul for assistance but that elf appeared not to notice Nuada's silent appeal, having seemingly discovered an inordinate fascination with the tip of his boot instead. So much for having each other's back, Nuada thought to himself cynically. Some innate male sense of preservation warned him to hold his peace and all he could do was stand there with growing unease as he awaited the ladies' next move.

However, the Gods must have been feeling especially charitable towards beleaguered Elven warriors that day because luckily for Nuada, Gràinne stepped between the two women and redirected their attention.

"This is all very well and good," she said brusquely, "but there are more important matters to attend to and your discussion of what happened several nights ago will just have to wait."

With one final glare at each other, the two women inclined their heads in reluctant assent and stood down.

Nuada gave an almost audible sigh of relief.

Ælfweard had returned by this time and he'd found Ailill somewhere in his travels. Nuada noticed that Ælfweard was scowling fiercely at both himself and Elfraine, as usual, and at Fand too now. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he mentally consigned the lot of them to the Underworld and turned his thoughts to those more important matters Gràinne had mentioned, namely the removal of his people to Miles Cross.

But he didn't get very far in his thinking; he was interrupted once more, this time by the appearance of the two young dragons and the irascible Goblin. The dragons garnered for themselves all the wonder and reverence to which they were becoming accustomed to receive whilst Goblin sat by and fixed his inscrutable yellow gaze on Gràinne. Nuada had no option but to wait... impatiently. Finally, after everyone had stopped exclaiming over and petting the dragons, and Elfraine had done with beaming like a proud mother, he was able to turn their attention to the matter of moving.

"Ælfweard, you will be in charge of the move, and too once everyone is at Miles Cross," he directed, immediately capturing for himself several surprised looks.

"You are not coming?" Ælfweard asked, frowning.

"No," replied Nuada. "The one who was behind this attack holds my sister captive, and I must get her back and deal to him before I can follow you to England."

"Your Highness," said Ailill, stepping forward without hesitation. "I stand ready to offer any assistance you might need in retrieving your sister."

Cearul and Ælfweard were not far behind him, they too being ready and willing to do everything they could for their princess.

"Thank you, my friends," Nuada replied, humbled by their readiness to offer their assistance. "But our people need you more. I have other... reinforcements I can call upon."

"The humans!" spat out Ælfweard contemptuously. He understood immediately what Nuada really meant.

"Not so much the humans as any knowledge they might have... and also, the demon who works for them," Nuada replied coolly.

Ælfweard had nothing further to say but the scowl on his face stayed firmly in place.

"Cethé, you and Fand go and prepare those who are still healing. Have them ready to move within the hour," Nuada ordered. "They won't be able to take much with them, only the essentials... if they have even that left," he muttered as he looked around at the wreckage of the Troll Market.

Cethé and Fand nodded and left to do as he directed, and Nuada then turned back to Ælfweard, Cearul and Ailill to discuss the removal of the rest of their people.

Elfraine, sensing no further role for herself for the present, moved off and stood beside the dragons. Her eyes roamed over the shattered remains of the Troll Market and her mind started to wander. Eventually, she realised her gaze had come to rest on Gràinne and she hurriedly averted it before the elf-witch caught her staring. But something about the _cailleach feasa_ demanded on her attention and she looked back again to discover Gràinne watching Goblin, of all things, with a fierce look of concentration on her face. And what was more, the ginger cat was returning the elf-witch's interest just as intently. What was going on here, Elfraine wondered as she glanced from one to the other.

Gràinne walked up to Goblin and started to slowly circle him; she looked to be talking to herself. Suddenly, she stopped and swiftly bent down to pick up the cat.

It seemed to be what Goblin was waiting for; he leapt into her arms and started meowing, loudly and insistently.

Nuada and the others glanced over briefly, frowning at the raucous interruption, but almost immediately turned their attention back to the business at hand.

Gràinne petted Goblin for some minutes, all the while muttering to herself, and Elfraine took peevish note of how the traitorous animal smooched up to the Elven woman. He was never so keen to curry _her_ favour. No, she was more likely than not to get a scratch or a bite for her efforts. And to think that she gave him food and shelter, all without the expectation of anything in return – which was just as well – and yet here was a total stranger who, as far as Elfraine was aware, had given him nothing, and Goblin was bent on doing his cattish best to be charming.

Gràinne suddenly lifted one hand and held it over the ginger feline as a golden light flared forth from her fingers and illuminated the poorly-lit backdrop of the square. _Good_, thought Elfraine to herself sharply. Maybe she was going to turn the faithless creature into a mouse. But the elf-witch just as quickly dropped her hand back to her side, as if she'd changed her mind, and the golden light disappeared.

Elfraine sidled closer, keen now to hear just what Gràinne was saying to Goblin. The _cailleach feasa_ and the cat were so intent on each other that they didn't even notice her approach. She stopped a short distance away from them and lent her ear to Gràinne's low, rushed words.

"No, no, no," muttered the elf-witch. "I _must_ not do it that way. As soon as your feet touch the earth, you will wither away and die!"

Elfraine started in surprise. What a strange thing to say... and what on earth did Gràinne mean by it? She couldn't be talking about Goblin; he had paws, not feet, and besides, those paws were often in contact with the ground and all without the cat suffering any ill effects... such as withering away and dying.

"She has wrought a _very_ clever charm," whispered the Elven woman, her admiration evident even in such hushed tones. "And I will have to be equally as clever in order to break it and ensure she has not worked it in vain."

Gràinne's words were getting stranger by the minute and Elfraine gave up even trying to guess what she meant by them. She shook her head and turned back to Nuada and others; at least she would know what _they_ were talking about.

As Elfraine started to walk away, Gràinne gave a soft exclamation of triumph and began to speak again, this time in a strange, mystical language. Elfraine stopped and listened to her. Something about the beautiful, musical words pulled at her mind and then she remembered where she'd heard such speech before; it was three, almost four days ago when Nuada had first visited her apartment and discovered that there were still dragons in this world. He'd spoken to them in High Elvish and Elfraine recalled that he'd said his people used it mainly on formal occasions and when working great acts of magic, with ancient Gaelic being the language for day-to-day conversation. She wondered why Gràinne was using her ancestral tongue now: it seemed highly unlikely that speaking to Goblin would count as a formal occasion, which left only... a great act of magic.

She whipped back around and saw that Gràinne had a soft golden light flaring forth from her fingers once more. And the traitor Goblin was now lying at her feet with a look of such adoration on his whiskered-face as Elfraine had _never_ been the beneficiary of, despite all she'd ever done for him. "Ungrateful cat! I hope she _does_ turn you into a mouse!" she grumbled as she turned away again.

She was brought up short by the questioning gazes of Nuada and the other elves, and thought at first that they were looking at her. They had very strange expressions on their faces and she felt that perhaps some sort of response was called for. "Well, if he's fonder of her than he is of me then I wish her joy of the feckless creature," she said, sounding very put out.

A collective gasp went up from the Elven warriors and they looked utterly astounded. Nuada even went so far as to swiftly draw his sword. Elfraine was somewhat astounded herself by now... until she realised they were paying her no heed whatsoever; in fact, they were looking straight past her.

And then suddenly, from somewhere behind her, came a deep, male voice. " 'Tis fonder of thee I'd be, coz, if thou did'st _not_ promise to geld me whene'er you drew breath."

Elfraine froze; it couldn't be! She _knew_ that voice! Slowly, very slowly – as if in a daze - she turned around. And for the second time in less than twenty four hours, she bore witness to the impossible. For the tattered ginger tom called Goblin had disappeared, and standing there before her, in his place, was the very tall, very handsome, and very _naked_ Henry, Viscount Somerled.

All Elfraine could do was stand and stare wordlessly at him for some moments, her big, brown eyes as round as saucers. And then with a cry of joy, she found her voice and her feet, and she hurled herself at him, headlong, and flung her arms around his neck. "Oh, Hal!" she exclaimed, as she covered his slightly bemused face in kisses.

Never one to miss an opportunity - and he'd quickly realised there were two splendid opportunities to be had here - Hal wrapped his arms around Elfraine and held her tight, his hands roving freely over her body as he smirked over the top of her head at Nuada. It occurred to him that if, as a cat, it had amused him to bait the Elven prince, then there was even more amusement to be had out of baiting him now, as a man.

Nuada, meanwhile, found himself in the somewhat disturbing position of looking at Elfraine recast in male form, so closely did the grinning creature in front of him resemble her. And in that instant, he knew without a doubt that he was looking at Elfraine Somerled's favourite cousin and first love... the _poor, dear, long-lost_ Hal who had disappeared in Ireland in 1597 whilst chasing some woman. And despite Elfraine's assurances to the contrary, he found – unsurprisingly - that as little as he'd liked _dear Hal_ as a cat, he liked him even less as a man.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

'Love is blind' – Shakespeare. The phrase was one of his favourite lines and he used it in several of his plays, including _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, _Henry V_ and _The Merchant of Venice_.

Cailleach feasa: (Irish) wise woman, fortune teller.

Máistreás Gràinne na Cinn Aosta: (Irish Gaelic) Mistress Gràinne of the Elders

Cearul na Gardaí Tí: (Irish Gaelic) Cearul of the House Guards.

Na Fairtheoirí Dragan Mór: (Irish Gaelic) The Great Dragon Sentinels.

Sirrah: (Archaic) a contemptuous term used in addressing a man or boy.

Pax: (Latin) peace or treaty.

'Telling tales out of school': an old, well-known aphorism. See Haywood, John, '_Dialogue Containing the Number in Effect of all the Proverbs in the English Tongue' __(1546)_ and Tyndale, William, _'The Practyse of Prelates'_ (1530) - 'So that what cometh once in may never out, for fear of telling tales out of school.' Usually means don't gossip indiscreetly or reveal private matters, secrets or confidences.

Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór: (Gaelic) [the] Great Eastern Troll Market.

Bøygen: (Norwegian) a troll from the Norwegian fairy tale _Per Gynt_, and a character in Henrik Ibsen's _Peer Gynt_, which is loosely based on the fairy tale_._

Bjergtrolde: (Danish) "mountain-trolls".

Einherjar: (Old Norse - "lone fighters") in Norse mythology, the einherjar are those who have died in battle. They are brought to Valhalla by the valkyries.

Valhalla: (from Old Norse _Valhǫll_ - "hall of the slain") in Norse mythology, a hall in Asgard, ruled over by the god Odin. Half of those who die in battle are brought here by the valkyries.

Ragnarök: (Old Norse - "fate of the Gods") in Norse mythology, this is a series of future events, including a great battle which will destroy the world. Afterwards, the world will be reborn anew with some gods and humans surviving.

Valkyries: (from Old Norse _valkyrja_ - "chooser of the slain") females who decide who lives and who dies in battle. The valkyries bring half of those who die to Valhalla, where they serve them drink and take them as lovers.

Re Goblin/Hal withering and dying as soon as his feet touch the ground: in Celtic folklore, people who were made immortal by the gods or faeries (see **Chapter 25**'s reference to the _Fledh Ghoibhnenn_) were bound to them and were expected to remain in the Otherworld. If they returned to their own world, they would find that many more years had passed there than had in the Otherworld and as soon as their feet touched the earth, they would age by the number of years that had passed in their own world. If too many years had passed, they would wither and die. For example, it might seem that only three years had passed in the Otherworld but in their own world three hundred years could have passed and this is the number of years by which they would then suddenly age.


	43. Chapter 42

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 42**

Several minutes later, Elfraine managed to regain both her wits and her composure. Still holding onto her cousin's arms, as though she were afraid he'd turn back into a cat if she let him go, she took a step backwards and looked up into deep brown eyes that returned her gaze with lazy, masculine appreciation. "I-I cannot fathom it," she said in a low, wondering voice as her own eyes – so similar to his - continued to devour every inch of him. "H-How... w-what?" A thousand questions crowded her mind, all demanding an immediate answer, and for a moment she didn't know where to start. And then suddenly, all the many years rolled back and she settled on one. "Who on earth did you upset so much that they'd turn you into a _cat_?" she demanded sharply. "And more to the point, what did you do to them?"

"Marry! 'Tis a fine greeting thou hast for me, coz. What makes thee so certain the fault be mine?" Hal countered sardonically while he flexed and stretched his hands, as if becoming accustomed to them once more.

"Because four hundred years has not dulled my memory where you're concerned, _cousin_," she replied tartly.

"Ah, you woundeth me, my Lady," he declared, snatching up one of her hands and pressing her palm against the warm, hard plane of his naked chest as though she'd dealt him a mortal blow.

"Stop prevaricating Hal and answer the question," she commanded briskly. However, the quirk of her lips gave lie to her stern tone and she made no effort to retrieve her hand.

His long, curling brown hair fell forward as he stared down at her, and just for a moment his expression slipped. Recovering, he shook his head and gave her a tight smile. "'Tis a long story, sweeting, and 'tis neither the time nor place to tell it, methinks." His eyes flickered over to Nuada and the other Elven warriors, and narrowed ever so slightly.

"I'm not asking for a full accounting, love," Elfraine quickly assured him. "Merely a sketch if you will. You can fill in the details later, when we have the time. It's only fair," she hastened to add when he started to shake his head once more. "After all, you have the advantage of me; you've obviously known all along who I am but I had no idea who _you_ were. These past three or four years you've been with me, I've thought you a cat! Why did you never say anything?"

He gave her a look of amused disbelief.

Oh!" she exclaimed as she immediately realised the absurdity of the question. "Well, you could have tried to do _something_ to let me know!"

"I _did_ attempt it, Lady Elf," he answered dryly, using the pet name he'd had for her when she was a girl. "Many times, forsooth, but you ne'er harkened to me, being set, instead, on gelding me! Thou wouldst _neuter_ me! _That_ was thy reply and 'twas all the payment I could expect for my efforts!

Elfraine gave him a look of shamefaced horror at the reminder. "Oh Hal! It's as well I never did!" Naturally enough, her gaze slid south for a moment, briefly alighting on that part of him which had laboured under such terrible threat. "No wonder you'd disappear for days on end."

He gave her a knowing wink as her eyes returned to his face. "My heart fair burst with hope when _he_ appeared," he said, with a nod in Nuada's direction. "The tide had finally turned in my favour, or so I thought, for one of the... _fair_ folk must surely know at a glance what lay hidden beneath the surface. Alas, he did but prove himself as clay-brained as thee!"

Elfraine snatched her hand back sharply at that and Nuada started forward, frowning fiercely. Henry Somerled merely stood there, a lazy half-smile playing about his lips. "Indeed, _'tis_ _most sweet __when in one line two crafts directly meet_," he murmured dryly.

"Well, perhaps if you hadn't tried to scratch his boots to pieces, he might have paid more mind to you," returned Elfraine, a little testily. "If you'd been a nice kitty and sat quietly on his lap, he might have soon worked it out."

The sudden look of distaste on Hal's face told Elfraine her aim had been true and had she glanced at Nuada, she would have learned she'd scored a hit there too, though that hadn't been her intention.

"Anyway, that sketch, love, if you please," she continued, grabbing hold of Hal's arms and forgiving him his insult in an instant. She turned her head and smiled over her shoulder in Nuada's direction, as if expecting him to both back her up and share in her happiness at this unexpected turn of events.

Nuada, however, had a thunderous scowl on his face by now, thanks largely to almost everything about Elfraine's cousin but with especial thanks to the _sweetings_ and _loves_,which seemed to flow so easily between them along with all the touches and looks they were exchanging. He was about to ask if she was sure 'cousin Hal' wasn't also another _husband_ come crawling out of the woodwork - one she'd perhaps overlooked given there were so many of them - when he took note of her delighted expression, which faltered a bit as she encountered his own black look. Something in him realised she was trying to include him in her joy, and he bit back the petty words as he tried to smooth away his frown. His ploy seemed to work; with her smile firmly back in place, she turned her attention to her cousin once more.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Ah, Elf," sighed Hal. "You ne'er would be put off once the scent was up." He was silent for a moment as his mind travelled back over the years, and then he spoke again. "Verily, _you hit the nail on the head_ love - the fault was indeed mine," he admitted soberly.

Elfraine gave him a thoughtful look. It suddenly struck her that he wasn't entirely the same carefree and light-hearted Henry of old; he had about him a nearly imperceptible air of reticence – sadness, almost - which she'd never before seen, and she felt a twinge of guilt for being even the slightest bit sharp with him, however deserved it might be. "Oh, Hal! I'm sure not _everything_ can be laid at your feet," she said gently. "There's more good in you than meets the eye, love." She accompanied her words with a cajoling smile in an attempt to lighten his sombre mood.

He reached up and touched her cheek briefly then caught her up in his arms and hugged her to him once more. "I hope such proclamations may still flow from thy lips once thou hast heard my tale, sweeting," he murmured before letting her go. "Faith, Elf but it gladdens my heart to speak with thee and hold thee. I've been too many years with only four paws and a 'meow' to make my way in this world," he added wryly.

"How did it come to such a pass as that anyway?" Elfraine persisted in asking. "Take pity on me, cousin," she rushed on, not giving him a chance to reply. "Surely you, of all creatures, wouldn't want my _curiosity _to be the death of me!" She'd been determined to make the jest, and it got her the smile she was after.

"More like 'twill be the death of me," he murmured, his eyes alighting on the Elven warriors once more and his grin disappearing as quickly as it had come.

"Yes," drawled Nuada, rightly taking Hal's meaning and breaking in on their conversation. "Please do take pity on us and tell us more of your story," he invited, his voice threaded with a faint sneer. Once he'd gotten past the _sweetings_ and the _loves_, it had occurred to him that here was yet another human who'd cheated both time and death, and was now walking this earth many centuries after he should have been nothing more than dust. Given the human's comment just now, Nuada wanted to know if he should be putting an end to the creature's overly long existence, and was quite prepared – no matter _what_ Elfraine's opinion in the matter - to help _dear Hal_ find his natural and surely long-overdue end should it prove to be deserved. He tightened his grip instinctively on the hilt of his drawn sword.

At his back, Ælfweard, Cearul and Ailill similarly tensed.

Though he gave no sign he'd noticed, neither the Elven prince's tone nor his gesture escaped Hal and he started to spy out an escape route just in case one was needed. The bearing of the warriors only confirmed his suspicion that his tale was not likely to find any favour with them and he decided his cousin's curiosity would have to go unsatisfied for the moment.

Elfraine was still too caught up in her own joy to fully remark the undercurrents and she turned back to Hal with an expectant look on her face. "Well?" she prompted once more as she lightly squeezed his arms when he didn't speak quickly enough for her liking.

Still keeping his narrow gaze on the Elven warriors, he answered her. "'Tis not such a tale as will please this audience, sweeting."

"Nonsense," Elfraine started to say as she turned back to Nuada and the others. But her next words died on her lips as she finally took note of the threatening manner of the elves and was forced to admit they didn't look at all pleased to meet her beloved cousin. In truth, some of them – most of them - were not at all pleased to have met her, she knew. And along with that, she also knew a sudden sting of disappointment that Nuada hadn't at least given her cousin a chance though she was also honest enough to admit it wasn't really surprising especially considering the narrow, unfriendly look Hal was giving _him_ at present. "Oh," she murmured in dismay as she glanced worriedly back and forth between them, lost for words for once.

"There are more important matters to tend to at present," broke in Gràinne sharply as she stepped forward. Behind her, the young dragons rustled their wings, and clicked and chirped in agreement. "The cat's story can wait for now," continued the _cailleach feasa_, "although I will tell you this - you would be most unwise to harm him in any way." Her last words were directed to Nuada and the others.

Hal didn't particularly appreciate her calling him a cat but he was grateful to the elf-witch for her timely intervention and her even timelier warning to the Elven warriors. Though he had no idea what she meant by it, he was willing to trust she had good reason; after all, she'd seen through the enchantment which had trapped him in a cat's body for so many years and what's more, had gone to some effort to avoid killing him when she broke it. "Madam," he murmured, inclining his head in acknowledgement of her words and relaxing his belligerent stance somewhat. He was about to add his thanks for all she'd done for him when he happened to glance down at himself and decided his thanks could wait until later... when he had some clothes on.

Loath to stand down, Nuada continued to stare threateningly at the human for some moments longer but finally, he too relaxed his stance a little and once he did, so did the others. "Very well then," he said, shortly. "But make no mistake, there _will_ be a telling of the story... and a calling to account too, if need be." He shot a hard, meaningful look in Elfraine's direction.

"I mistake nothing, Sir," drawled Hal, whilst silently vowing there'd be no telling of anything, no matter _what_ His Royal Highness said.

Elfraine, meanwhile, was not at all happy with matters as they stood; she hadn't mistaken Nuada's words or his look either. Gràinne's warning would obviously only protect Hal for so long and, going by the dark scowls her cousin and the Elven warriors were still exchanging, maybe not even for that long. But as she glanced miserably between Nuada and Hal, a sudden thought occurred to her and she found her voice again.

"I would remind you all that Hal did in fact save Ælfweard's life!" she burst out. She would have laughed outright at the looks on the elves' faces had she not been so concerned to smooth the waters. "Therefore, you, sir, are in my cousin's debt!" she informed Ælfweard triumphantly. "And it would be poor payment indeed to kill him or harm him in any way."

Ælfweard started forward angrily. "He did no such thing!" he disagreed vehemently. "I owe him _nothing_!"

"As I recall, if not for Hal – when he was Goblin the cat, that is – if not for him, _you_ would have been shredded to pieces by one of those demons," Elfraine reminded Ælfweard sharply, clenching her fists at her sides and taking a swift step forward. "His courageous and gallant distraction saved your ungrateful hide!"

She suddenly found herself snatched up and swung through the air as her cousin seized her in his arms and set her firmly to one side.

"Though I thank thee for thy care, I'll not hide behind thy skirts, madam," he informed her in a hard voice, not even looking at her but rather keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the menacing warriors in front of him. "I will fight my own battles."

There were loud mutterings from Ælfweard, Cearul and Ailill, and Elfraine had just started to tell Hal that no, he wouldn't fight his own battles – at least, not naked and unarmed he wouldn't - when Nuada put an end to all discussion, if it could be called that.

"Silence!" he roared out, over the top of them all; the talking and muttering ceased immediately. "She is right. The human _did_ save your life, Ælfweard, albeit he was a cat when he did so," Nuada bit out, clearly begrudging every word.

Ælfweard's lips compressed in a thin line of anger as he gave a jerky nod; he'd quickly realised it was true.

"And though Ælfweard might be the _only_ one of our kind who is so indebted to him," Nuada continued, anticipating the words that both Cearul and Ailill had been about to utter, "I will not see the human harmed by _any_ of us. He is obviously dear to Lady Wylde. We owe her our thanks this day, and she'll have it by way of his safety."

In the course of Elfraine's exchange with Ælfweard, Nuada had recalled what she'd not long said to him when he'd asked her what she _was_ made for. '_Family and friends... home and hearth_' she'd answered, without hesitation, and then she'd asked him what else there was. And suddenly, he understood just what her cousin meant to her; it was what his own father and sister had once meant to him... what they would have _still_ meant to him had they not lost sight of each other so long ago.

He addressed his next words to Elfraine. "Your cousin is safe in our company... so long as he poses no threat to my people." He shot a hard look at Hal as he said that, and then returned his gaze to Elfraine. "You have my word on it." The smile she gave him almost took his breath away and as the sharp planes of his face relaxed a little in response, it passed through his mind that he'd like many more such smiles from her.

Elfraine, for her part, was hard pressed not to run over and fling her arms around him and cover _his_ face in kisses now. Were it not for the other three elves, still scowling to varying degrees behind Nuada, she'd have done just that. "Thank you, Your Highness," she said, suppressing her every instinct and inclining her head respectfully instead.

But she couldn't conceal the soft, lambent glow in her eyes and Nuada quickly discovered another thing he'd like to see more of. His own sharp, dark-gold eyes softened fractionally as he took in her adoring look, and then he suddenly recalled the more pressing matters facing them and the unremitting hardness was back once more, though he promised himself he'd do his best to give her cause to look at him like that again, later on... when he could enjoy the sight in more private surroundings.

For now, however, he merely gave her a short nod and then walked over to the remains of the cloth merchant's stall. Leaning down, he picked up a bolt of dusky pink, shot silk material, which was embroidered with tight clusters of small, delicate flowers in threads of glistening antique gold. He then turned back to the others and heaved the weighty bolt at Hal, who staggered slightly as he caught it.

"Cover yourself up!" Nuada ordered tersely, before turning back to Ælfweard, Cearul and Ailill and motioning for Gràinne and Elfraine to join them.

"Your servant, Sir," muttered Hal as he raised an unenthusiastic brow at the beautiful cloth. He supposed he shouldn't protest; he, or rather his cousin, had the Elven prince's assurances in respect of his life and the only thing that stood in any danger now was his dignity.

... ...

A short while later, the details of the shift to Miles Cross were mostly sorted out. Cethé and Fand had readied the wounded for their journey and returned to report back to Nuada while Hal had managed to find a set of shears from within the wrecked stall and, after fashioning a respectable enough covering for himself from the shot silk material, had joined the group too. Nuada was just running through the arrangements one last time.

"The colour suits you, cousin," murmured Elfraine as Hal took his place next to her. "He has a good eye," she added, with a nod in Nuada's direction.

"Grammercy, coz, though methinks such finery would be displayed to better advantage on thine own fair and comely form," Hal replied in a low voice.

Elfraine was about to return the thanks when she happened to glance up at him and snorted instead. Whilst his mouth might be paying tribute to her, his eyes were full of compliments for Fand, who was standing directly opposite him and blushing slightly at his warm regard. "Two at once, Hal?" Elfraine remarked, shaking her head. "You truly have rare talent, sir."

"The fruit of long practice, coz," he replied, whilst continuing to eye up Fand. He caught sight of Ælfweard scowling fiercely at him and gave the elf a wink.

Ælfweard stiffened in outrage and quickly looked away.

"I might even be persuaded to attempt three," Hal murmured wickedly, with a nod in the surly warrior's direction. "An' I brought a smile to that sullen face, 'twould be a feather in my cap,"

Elfraine couldn't restrain a short burst of laughter at that and suddenly found herself the centre of attention. "I-I do beg your p-pardon," she stammered to the rest of the group as she bit back her amusement, and hung her head.

Nuada merely gave her a hard look and continued talking.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Hal," she whispered, with a nod at Ælfweard. "They have very good hearing!"

"Yea verily, love, I know it," he whispered back. He slid a sideways glance at her profile and though he knew he shouldn't, he couldn't help himself; it was too good an opportunity to let pass by. "For I am wed to one."

"What!" she burst out sharply, once more drawing all eyes to herself.

"Hark, hark now, Lady Elf," chided Hal, in a louder voice and all innocence. "'Tis the second time thou hast interrupted His Highness. Mark thy manners, cousin."

This time, it was he who was the focus of hard, gold eyes; his attitude fooled no one, least of all Nuada, who'd realised by now that Elfraine and her cousin shared more than simply looks.

Elfraine gazed up at Hal, her curiosity fair killing her yet again, but he merely nodded in Nuada's direction and said nothing further. She knew it was neither the time nor the place to press the matter, and her eyes narrowed as she considered her cousin. Never mind, she thought. She'd have him pinned down, as it were, and talking soon enough. She looked over to Nuada and started to stammer out another apology but he cut her off with a brief wave of his hand.

"No matter," he said shortly. "Now that we have your full attention, perhaps you'd tell us what Ælfweard and the others can expect when they arrive at your estate."

"Oh! Oh yes, of course," she readily agreed. "There will only be my steward, Jamie Langham, and his wife there."

Nuada started at the name.

Elfraine read his expression aright. "Yes," she said, in reply to his unspoken question. "You read of his great-grandsire, several times removed, earlier this afternoon. He was the same young Jamie Langham I wrote of in my diary and to whom I entrusted the care of the dragons... before I killed Gretheved - in 1615 - and was hung for it. Jamie's descendants have stuck by me through most of the centuries since then.

This time both Gràinne and Hal started, though for entirely different reasons.

"Thou wert hung!" Hal began to say.

"Gretheved!" exclaimed Gràinne, at the same time.

"What do you know of Gretheved?" asked Nuada sharply as his gaze sliced over to the _cailleach feasa_.

"If he is the one I am thinking of, then a very great deal," replied Gràinne, frowning fiercely.

"How to kill him?" asked Elfraine eagerly.

"Perhaps," answered the elf-witch. She looked away and continued talking, though it was more to herself than to anyone else. "And yet they must be one and the same. The matter of the names is too much of a coincidence... and it would explain the Hounds of Odin."

"Máistreás Gràinne, it might be best if you accompany us to the humans' _Bureau _after the rest of our people have left for England_,_" said Nuada as a spark of hope leapt to life; the ancient Gods might be smiling on them at last. "Your knowledge may provide some answers."

"Of course," Gràinne readily assented.

"You were hung." There was a note of dismay in Hal's voice as he repeated himself.

Elfraine gave him a rueful smile. "You are not the only one with a tale to tell. We can swap stories later, cousin," she replied.

He gave her a long look and then nodded. "Very well, my Lady."

"What about this pair who will be there when we arrive at your home?" broke in Ælfweard, addressing Elfraine.

"What about them?" countered Elfraine.

"How can you be sure they will welcome us?" he elaborated.

Elfraine frowned as she thought about that. Ælfweard had a point; though Jamie and his wife knew her secret and were well-acquainted with the dragons, she had no doubt the sudden appearance of the Troll Market exiles would shock them greatly. "I'll call them after we've returned to the Bureau but in the meantime, I suppose you could take this," she said slowly and with great reluctance as she reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the gold locket with the silver ring threaded on its chain. In four hundred years, she'd never entrusted the locket to another soul and had never been so distantly parted from it. "I doubt it will make things any easier in the first instance but I suppose it might eventually allay their concerns until I can call them. And too, I'll write a note to accompany it."

She started to hold out her hand to Ælfweard but then suddenly snatched it back and gave him a hard stare. "And mark this well, sir. You'd best take good care of it otherwise I'll kill you."

Ælfweard started to sneer at that but the cold, flat look in Elfraine's eyes gave him pause.

As they stood and stared at each other - Ælfweard reluctant to give any assurances to a human, especially one who'd just threatened him, and Elfraine loath to give him the locket in any event - Hal reached across his cousin and touched the hand in which she held the old piece of jewellery. "Wouldst thou show me, cousin?" he asked softly.

"Oh! Yes, of course," she replied, a little startled. "You won't have seen her before," she said to him. "She's my daughter, Fortune... Fortune Golde," she explained as Hal gently took the locket from her.

"Yea, love," he murmured. "I harkened to what you said at thy lodgings, before our, ah, precipitous leave-taking." He carefully opened the thin, worn casing and drew a small breath of surprise as he gazed at its contents. "Elfraine, 'tis..." he started to say.

"I know, Hal," she interrupted as she reached over and lightly stroked the picture inside. "It was always said she was the very image of me, though I thought her far prettier. She has the Somerled face and colouring, has she not?"

"Y – yes sweeting, she doth indeed," he agreed quietly. In truth, there was next to nothing to be seen of the dead child. The tide of time, aided by centuries' worth of a grieving mother's touch, had worn away the paint until only the barest covering remained, and it was impossible to tell whether Fortune Golde had had the Somerled face and colouring or not.

Hal carefully closed the locket and held it in the palm of his hand as he stared at it. "What sayest you to this, my Lady?" he said, after a moment. "I will take custody of thy precious keepsake and return to Miles Cross with these good people, and upon my honour, I will guard thy daughter's image – my cousin's image - with my life. Thou hast my word on it. Will that answer, sweeting?"

"You'd do that for me, Hal?" asked Elfraine gratefully.

"For thee, cousin, anything," he replied as he sketched a bow.

Elfraine threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly for a moment. "Perhaps you should take the dragons with you too," she said, as glanced over towards them. They were sitting to one side and listening in with great interest. "Jamie and his wife know them well, and they might be safer there." She looked back at Hal and was struck by a sudden memory. "I don't think it will take much to convince Jamie and Susan of who _you_ are either. Your portrait still hangs in the Great Hall and you look exactly as you did the day it was finished." She paused for a moment, before continuing in a quieter tone. "Thank you for your offer, Hal. It does make my mind easy."

"I am glad to do it for thee, Elfraine," he said, a little sombrely. "I know thou hast other business to attend to and I fear I'll be of no use there til I am accustomed to this body once more," he added, looking down at his hands as he flexed them. "Indeed, 'twill please me much to be in familiar surroundings again. The Hall... it - it hath not altered much over the years, coz?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.

"No, not too much, love," she replied, immediately understanding what lay behind the question. "I've made some improvements for comfort's sake, and have kept up the maintenance, of course, but otherwise you'll find things largely as they were when you were last there."

"I am heartily glad of that," he said, with something of relief. "When I returned to this earth, a hundred years ago, I found a world gone mad. 'Twill gladden my heart to find something of my own times... something of older and quieter days."

Elfraine's eyes narrowed briefly as she wondered where he'd been for the other three hundred years he'd been missing but she left the question unasked; he'd promised to tell her everything later and so she'd leave it until then. "They were not _always_ quiet times, Hal," she reminded him instead, "though I know what you mean, love. And now, there is one last thing." She reached over and gently lifted the locket out of her cousin's hand. "You'll no doubt want Dihyā's ring back," she said, walking over to Nuada as she started to undo the delicate gold chain.

He hesitated for a moment and looked around at the scene before him. There was no longer any place on this earth he called home – indeed, there hadn't been for many years – and all he had now was the temporary refuge Elfraine had offered his people. The ring might as well be there as anywhere. He closed his hand over hers, stilling her motions. "Not yet, Lady. It may stay with your daughter's portrait a while longer."

"Oh!" exclaimed Elfraine softly. "Certainly," she agreed, a little surprised. He removed his hand from hers, and she went to give the jewellery to her cousin.

"Wouldst thou, sweeting?" asked Hal, as he held out his wrist to her. "Loop it round and fasten it, and 'twill be safe enough. I've no other place for it," he remarked with a sardonic glance at his dusky-pink, gold-embroidered covering.

Elfraine complied, with a small smile. "You are becoming quite the dashing figure of fashion, Hal," she murmured.

"So, I take it you are satisfied with all the arrangements now, Your Highness," said Gràinne.

"Yes," replied Nuada. "All is in hand."

"Good. Then there is one last thing to attend to. We must perform the _deasghnátha naofa_ before we leave," the elf-witch stated.

Nuada's mouth tightened and he looked away for a moment; it grieved him to think of the fallen lying here in this dark, abandoned place for all time... or until the relentless activity of the human foe disturbed their final resting place as happened all too frequently these days. But the _c__ailleach feasa_ was right, and he realised that at least the dead here had others of their kind still able to perform the rituals and say the words for them; too many of his people no longer did.

He swung his gaze back to Gràinne. "You will lead the ceremonies?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question; as the oldest and most experienced there, the privilege fell naturally to her.

"I will," she replied as she inclined her head.

"Very well," said Nuada. He turned to the others in the group and, with the exception of Elfraine and Hal, directed them to help Gràinne prepare for the rituals and gather together the rest of the Fae. They left with the elf-witch and he gazed once more at the ruins around him.

Elfraine's heart ached for Nuada as she watched him standing there - a tall, lone figure surrounded by the wreckage of his people's lives - and suddenly, she understood, not just with her mind but with her heart as well, the burden he'd carried for too many years. If she'd found the small weight of her daughter difficult to bear these past four centuries, then she could well imagine how crushing the weight of an entire people must be. And too, whilst she was at long last so very close to getting her chance to try and make amends, and maybe set things right by Fortune, she remembered well the early days of her immortality when she'd had no such hope and time had stretched out before her, an endless chain of years to be borne for all eternity. How must Nuada feel now, with no solution in sight to the awful and seemingly inevitable fate that awaited his people? She recalled their encounter with the Elven family who'd been seeking the refuge of the Troll Market two nights ago; the anguish and guilt she'd seen in his unguarded look then went some way to answering her question now.

But as Elfraine stared at the solitary figure of the Elven warrior, another memory rose up; a memory no older than the night. When they'd saved Cearul's life, she'd been surrounded by Nuada in a sublime and transcendent web of magic. She'd felt him in her heart and in her soul, and she'd known him with every fibre of her being. And it was that knowledge of him which told her now that he had it in him to find a way through for his people.

He looked aloof and forbidding, and Elfraine had no doubt that he neither expected nor wanted any comfort but for the life of her, she couldn't leave him standing there alone. She turned to Hal and shooed him off.

Somewhat to her surprise, her cousin obliged without argument and walked over to the dragons. He'd been wanting to make his acquaintance with them as a human... because he found he had a thing or two to say to them about their neglect in mentioning his true nature to his cousin despite that he'd meowed at them to do so many times over the last few years.

Elfraine turned back to Nuada and went to stand by his side. "You'll find a way, love," she said quietly as she put her arms around his waist and looked up at him.

He stiffened, and for a moment she thought it might be _her_ turn to be shooed away as he stared down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. However he relaxed a little instead, and put his arm around her waist.

"It is hard to think how, _mhuirnín_," he murmured bitterly as he looked back at the wreckage around him.

"And yet you will, Nuada," Elfraine returned, and she was utterly convinced of it. "Although I might not be here to see it, I know in my heart you'll find a way through for your people."

Sharp, gold eyes cut back to her face and everything else she'd said was lost as something in him reared up at the thought of her not being nearby. "But you will come back," he said abruptly, his voice rough.

Elfraine was surprised by the sudden swing in his thoughts, and then a look of dismay filled her eyes and she quickly lowered her lashes. "No," she replied succinctly.

His fingers bit into her arms as he suddenly seized her and hauled her around to face him fully. "Why not?" he demanded tersely. When she didn't answer immediately, he grabbed hold of her chin and forced her head up so that she couldn't avoid his gaze. With a hard look, he repeated the question. "Why not?"

She'd just opened her mouth to offer up some platitude when Ailill approached to let Nuada know that the rituals were almost ready to start at the far end of the square.

Nuada acknowledged the other elf's words with a short nod and then turned his attention back to Elfraine. "I _will_ have that month we agreed to," he said sharply, as if he was expecting her to try and renege on their deal.

"As will I," returned Elfraine. "To forfeit that month would be more than I'm capable of," she murmured truthfully whilst heaving an inner sigh of relief; it seemed their agreement was his main concern and it didn't appear he was going to press her for the particulars of her plan in respect of Fortune. She was convinced more than ever that he wouldn't approve, and she had a strong suspicion he'd try and put an end to it, particularly given that as before, in 1615, there was a dragon involved and she was going to use its true name against it and bend it to her will if she could... only this time, she'd be better prepared.

Nuada continued to hold Elfraine's gaze and inclined his head slowly, his expression giving away nothing of his thoughts.

She grew a little nervous under his inscrutable regard, and cast her mind around for a way to change the subject. Spying the growing numbers of Fae at the other end of the square, she found her distraction. "I'll wait over there, with Hal, whilst the ceremonies are conducted," she told him, gesturing in the opposite direction to the gathered mourners.

His eyes narrowed slightly at her words but he didn't press her any more on the question of why she wouldn't be returning after she'd done whatever it was she had to do out on the stormy waters of the Great Southern Ocean. Still holding onto her, he turned his head towards the far end of the square and the group assembled down there. Then looking back to her again, he spoke in a more measured tone. "Will you stand with me for the rituals, Elfraine?"

Her eyes widened in surprise; he couldn't have made a more unexpected request. "Y–yes, Nuada. I - I'd be honoured to stand with you."

He looked over to where Hal was standing with the dragons. "You may take part too, if you wish," he said shortly to Elfraine's cousin.

Hal swept him a low, graceful bow to cover his astonishment. "Thou dost me great honour, Sir," he said as he straightened up.

Nuada addressed his next words to the dragons. "You two, of course, need no invitation."

They rustled their wings as they rose to their feet and immediately headed for the far end of the square where the rest of the Fae were gathered.

Nuada took hold of Elfraine's hand and started off after them, leaving Hal to follow in their wake.

As they approached the large group at the other end of the square, Elfraine saw that the bodies of the fallen had been laid out in a circle and that clusters of the living stood between amber-coloured stone remains and the fleshly corpses of those Fae who did not lapidify in death.

As royalty, Nuada took his place on the western point of the circle, opposite Gràinne, and Elfraine stood next to him. The two dragons sat on her other side, and Hal stood slightly behind them all. While the last of the living slipped into place, Nuada quickly explained the _deasghnátha naofa_ to Elfraine.

Finally, all was ready and Gràinne raised her arms and began chanting the words of the _Dóiteán Íonú_ in the ancestral tongue of her people. Before they were consigned back to the care of the earth, the dead would take part in this one last act of magic to appease the ancient Gods and lift the darkness which now lay upon the Troll Market following the night's events. As Gràinne called forth the cleansing fire, the rest of the survivors touched hands with each other and with the bodies on either side of them, forming a link between the world of the living and the land of the ancestors, and lending their magic to the task. And as she held Nuada's hand on one side and the shoulder of one of the dragons on the other side, Elfraine felt the magic within her come to life in answer to the _cailleach feasa's_ words of summoning.

In the centre of the circle, a white-gold light appeared and all around it, in the lowering light of the marketplace, a delicate, ethereal flame began to burn, sparkling and shimmering like sunlight. As fine filaments of golden fire spread out from the centre of the light, faint, celestial notes chimed through the air, and the light, sweet scent of spring - still only a distant dream - filled the square. Soon, the whole place was alive with magic, delighting the senses of all who were gathered there, and the dark, heavy pall which hung over the Troll Market grew lighter as the stain of the night's battle was lifted.

The golden fire soon burned itself out and then it was time for the _Deasghnátha na Marbh_. Gràinne began to intone the ancient words of farewell which would mark the journey of the dead to the realm of the ancestors, and consign their remains back to the care of the earth; their light would never be seen again in this world.

As she spoke, Nuada reflected on those lying dead around him. Eventually, his eyes fell on the shattered remains of Lorcan. The fragments of the fallen warrior had been gathered together and reworked with magic to resemble the living, breathing creature he'd once been. A memory of a winter's day many thousands of years ago – a memory he'd dwelt on only that afternoon - stirred briefly in Nuada's mind once more as he recalled the early days when he and Lorcan had served together in the _Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae_. And though the stain of the night's events had now been lifted from the Troll Market, Nuada knew a heaviness of spirit as he thought on how his old friend and former comrade had come to such an end here in this dark, hidden refuge of the displaced, and far from the forests and fields, and the bright sun and open skies of their younger days.

The light squeeze of a warm hand broke in on his dark thoughts, like the sun through clouds, and Nuada glanced down at Elfraine's profile. She was looking straight ahead and listening intently to Gràinne's words, though she couldn't have understood them, and he squeezed her hand in return. Her eyes flew to his face and she gave him a small, soft smile, and as he stared down at her, Nuada felt the weight on his spirit ease a little. He pressed her hand again and turned his attention back to the _cailleach feasa_.

Gràinne continued to intone the words of the sacred, age-old rite and soon it was over. With the _deasghnátha naofa_ having been observed and the final farewells made, it was now time for the living to leave. The exiles quickly readied themselves for their journey; Elfraine told them where Miles Cross was roughly situated, and it was agreed Hal would guide them to the Hall and see to the explanations once they'd all arrived. The displaced Fae started to disappear, travelling swiftly along the unseen paths of magic, until finally there was only Hal, Ælfweard and the dragons left to make the crossing. Nuada and Elfraine stood by, to farewell them, whilst Gràinne returned to her shop to salvage what little she could from the wreckage.

Hal walked up to his cousin to take his leave. "I will count the hours until thy fair form once more delights mine eyes, Lady Elf," he said as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

"And will they pass too quickly or not quickly enough, do you think?" she asked dryly, holding onto his arms and leaning back to look up at him.

"Forsooth, not quickly enough, cousin," he replied with a slow smile as he brushed a curl back from her face. "Ah, Elfraine, how thou hast grown. Thou hadst but sixteen summers to thy credit when last I held thee, though you were a wife already. You scarce seemed old enough to be wed to Chylton," he murmured pensively as he hugged her again.

She made no reply. What was there to say? She _had_ been too young to marry but her uncle – Hal's father – had refused to nay say the Queen's... _suggestion_ that she wed Robert Chylton, and she knew that thought wasn't far from her cousin's mind. Hal had been thirty at the time, a man full grown, and he'd been vociferous in his opposition to the match; it had caused no little ill-feeling between himself and his father, and Elfraine had always borne a measure of guilt about being a bone of contention between them... not that she'd ever had any say in anything. But she'd also treasured her cousin's championing of her, even though he'd ultimately failed, and she returned his embrace wholeheartedly now.

Glancing up over her head, Hal caught sight of Nuada, who was standing a little way behind her. Correctly reading the hard, tense look on the Elven prince's face, he found himself all too willing to be distracted from his weighty musings. Here was a final chance for some sport with His Royal Highness before they parted, and it was more than he could pass up.

He turned his eyes back to Elfraine. "Faith, love, thou art the best of cousins," he said as he clasped her tightly yet again, his hands roaming restlessly over her back this time and slowly moving lower and lower.

Nuada knew full well what the human was about and gave him a filthy scowl; Hal only grinned smugly at him, all the while keeping a tight hold on his cousin.

Elfraine happened to glance up at Hal at that very moment and was all of a sudden arrested by the look in his eye. It reminded her of something and she frowned as she tried to think what. And then she remembered. "Ooooh!" she gasped, fond feeling suddenly gone and outrage in its place instead.

Before Hal knew what she was about, she'd delivered a quick kick to his shins, and had just lifted her knee to deal to a more tender part of his anatomy when he quickly let her go and sprang back with even more alacrity. "God's Blood, Lady Elf!" he exclaimed, startled. "What – what..."

"A pox on you, sirrah! You – you _scurrilous_ creature!" she cried out as she pointed an accusing finger at him.

He was entirely perplexed by now. "What ails thee, cousin?" he asked, clearly bemused.

Elfraine put her hands on her hips and started tapping her toe furiously. She took several deep breaths as she struggled to calm down. "Thou, cousin! Thou art what ails me! All those times I thought to myself, _Good old Goblin, he _can_ be a nice kitty sometimes_," she muttered tersely.

Hal still looked mystified.

"You'd sit there, licking your paws and washing your face... waiting quietly and keeping me company," she continued in a hard tone.

Comprehension dawned. "Oh!" exclaimed Hal, with the sudden look of a guilty man.

"Yes, 'oh!' indeed," returned Elfraine sharply. "All those times you'd deign to keep me company... _when I was at my bath!_ Those – those _wicked_ yellow eyes - never so much as blinking! You! My cousin _and_ a married man! Have you no shame!"

"Canst thou blame a man, Elfraine..." Hal started to offer by way of excuse, and then he stopped as he thought about what he'd been about to say. "Well, thou canst, I trow," he admitted. His sometimes ill-considered actions were what had finally gotten him into trouble with his Elven wife's family in the first place, and it seemed they'd gotten him into trouble with his own kin now.

"Shall I kill him for you?" broke in Nuada, a feral gleam in his eyes as his hand went to the hilt of his sword.

That brought Elfraine up short. "What? No!" she exclaimed, much to Hal's relief and Nuada's disappointment. "Although I reserve the right to change my mind," she added with a narrow look at her cousin.

Nuada's offer had taken the wind out of her sails and she was not so angry now. Hal quickly saw his chance to try and set things to rights again. "_I cry you mercy_, Elfraine!" he exclaimed, dropping to one knee and bowing his head before her. The shot-silk cloth gaped alarmingly. "Prithee, fair lady, canst thou not find it in thy generous heart to forgive this errant, beef-witted barnacle?"

Against her will, Elfraine found her lips twitching at both his words and his actions, and she was forced to admit to herself that it was impossible to stay angry with him for long. Besides, she remembered how she'd ogled him enough when, at fourteen years of age, she'd fancied herself in love with him; she supposed it was only turnabout now. She was not, however, going to let him off the hook so lightly as that. "Oh, get up Hal!" she bid him. "I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on you. You never could help yourself where the ladies were concerned."

He rose to his feet, grabbing hold of the silk fabric before it slid back to the ground, and swept her a bow as he spoke. "Thou art verily without equal, my Lady. A paragon of virtue... a nonpareil... a..."

"Stow that nonsense, cousin!" she broke in sharply. "I fancy I might forgive you." She paused, as if considering the matter, and Hal found himself holding his breath.

"In truth, I can't stay mad at you, cousin," she continued, "and against my better judgment, I find I _do_ forgive you. You don't know how good it is to see you. After all these years and against every expectation..." She shook her head as though still finding it difficult to comprehend.

"_There are more things in Heaven and earth_, Elf..." he murmured, unable to believe he'd escaped so easily. "_Thou_ shouldst know that, sweeting."

She gave him a thoughtful look. "You are right I suppose, or rather, good Will was right. And you can tell me later how you became familiar with a play that wasn't even written until sometime after you'd disappeared," she added, with a half-smile. She took a step towards him and hugged him one last time. "It seems a hard fate, love. I've only just found you and now I must bid you adieu... Fare thee well, Lord Hal, and Godspeed you, cousin."

"And thee, Lady Elf," he replied. "Til we meet again, sweeting." He gave her a final kiss on the cheek, then went and stood with Ælfweard and the dragons. Placing one hand on the Elven warrior's shoulder, he lifted his other in farewell to Elfraine.

"By the by, I do have one question you can answer now, cousin," she called out as she returned his wave.

"My Lady?" enquired Hal, happy to accommodate her if he could.

"I saw the most adorable little ginger kittens running about the neighbourhood this summer past," she informed him.

He raised a questioning brow.

"They weren't perchance..." she started to say.

A look like thunder settled on Hal's face as he suddenly guessed the direction her wicked thoughts were taking. "Hold thy tongue, wench!" he interrupted sharply.

"_your_ get were they, cousin?" she finished on a triumphant rush, and paying him back for his unchivalrous behaviour as a cat.

"You little witch!" he shouted in the very instant he disappeared along with the dragons and Ælfweard, who had what could have been called a hard smile on his face... though it could also have been called a sneer.

A pair of strong arms suddenly seized hold of her from behind and wrapped around her; Nuada buried his face in Elfraine's hair, his shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly with silent laughter. As his amusement subsided, he lifted his head and looked at where Hal had just stood. "I could almost pity him," he murmured, the faint traces of a lazy smile still lingering about his lips.

Elfraine leaned her head back and stared up at him over her shoulder. She knew a moment of piercing happiness as she realised she'd made him laugh and brought that smile to his face, distracting him from his cares even if only for a little while. "Never say you're taking that wretch's part!" she teased now, her eyes alight with laughter and with everything she felt for him.

Whatever else Nuada _had_ been about to say was lost; he was suddenly spellbound by the sight and couldn't help himself. He turned her round so that she was facing him, and then pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her. His long, pale, gilt-tipped hair fell forward and brushed her cheeks as he bent his head and pressed his warm, firm lips to hers. Elfraine parted her own lips on a sigh of delight, and a groan rose from deep in Nuada's chest as his tongue swept into her mouth.

She tasted him back and his arms tightened around her, his shoulders now shaking for an altogether different reason. Desire knifed through him, and he reached one hand down to cup the firm curve of her backside and hold her more securely in place. As they kissed, he pressed the growing hardness of his body into the yielding softness of hers, and started to move against her. He swallowed her gasp of pleasure and gave her one in return as her hands went to his hips, urging him on. With the heat of him burning into her, she instinctively responded to his rhythm, her body meeting and matching the slow, teasing movements of his.

Nuada lifted his head and stared down into shimmering, brown eyes awash with desire. She looked and felt like heaven, and still, it wasn't enough; he wanted all of her.

"Oh, Nuada," she breathed, her voice a wispy thread of need. "I _know_ what it is to have you in me – I can _feel_ you there now."

And with those words, she conjured up in his mind the memories of their love-making, and suddenly, he could feel the heat of her wrapped tightly around him once more. His body jerked in instinctive anticipation and he dropped his forehead to hers as he drew a steadying breath.

He bent his head again and his lips lightly grazed hers before claiming them in a deeper kiss. All of a sudden, a loud cough from somewhere behind them pierced through the haze of their desire and brought them both up short; Gràinne had obviously returned.

Biting back a curse, Nuada lifted his head and reluctantly eased himself away from Elfraine, though he didn't let her go entirely. "I am sorry, Elfraine," he murmured, his voice still rough with desire and his breath fanning her cheek. "Later, _mhuirnín_."

She gave a small moan of protest at the loss of his hardness and heat, and the feel of his mouth on hers, and held fast to his arm as they turned around to face Gràinne.

The _cailleach feasa_ merely arched her brow at them as she approached. Having gathered together such possessions as she considered necessary, she now had a satchel slung over her shoulder and was ready to leave.

With one arm firmly anchored around Elfraine's waist, Nuada offered his other arm to Gràinne. She reached out and took it, and for a moment the three of them just stood there looking around the dark, deserted ruins of the _Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór_. And then they were gone, and the market which only hours before had been full of noisy, bustling life, finally lay silent... a quiet and lonely tomb for the dead.

As he took Elfraine and Gràinne from the Troll Market, Nuada vowed he'd avenge those dead; the one responsible would pay a heavy price for the destruction of yet another Fae sanctuary. Perhaps at the Bureau they would at last find some answers and, more importantly, a way to defeat Gretheved. They were there in the blink of an eye but what Nuada found instead, as they suddenly appeared under the harsh, glaring lights of the BPRD's foyer, was his sister leaning distraught over the torn, bloodied body of her lover and crying out to an empty hallway for help.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:  
><strong>

'Oh, 'tis most sweet when in one line two crafts directly meet' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act III, Scene IV.

'Hit the nail on the head' - William Cuningham's _The Cosmographical Glass_ (1559) contains one of the earliest known uses of the phrase in its modern meaning of getting to the heart of a matter.

'Curiosity killed the cat': originally "care (worry) killed the cat". Earliest reference is attributed to Ben Jonson, _Every man in His Humour_ (1598), a play first performed by William Shakespeare.

Cailleach feasa: (Irish Gaelic) wise woman, fortune teller.

Grammercy: (Elizabethan English) thank you.

Máistreás: (Irish Gaelic) mistress.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart, darling.

The idea of true names and names having power comes from Ursula Le Guin's _Earthsea_ series of books, in particular the first book, _A Wizard of Earthsea_ (first published 1968).

Lapidify: To change to stone [from French _lapidifier,_ from Medieval Latin _lapidificāre,_ ultimately from Latin _lapis_ stone].

Deasghnátha naofa: (Irish Gaelic) sacred rituals.

Dóiteán Íonú: (Irish Gaelic) Purification Ritual. (Dóiteán = 'fire', meaning cleansing fire in this sense.)

Deasghnátha na Marbh: (Irish Gaelic) Rites for the Dead.

An Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae: (Irish Gaelic) The Bethmooran Defenders of the Fae (the army).

'I trow': (Elizabethan English) I know.

'I cry you mercy' – Shakespeare, _Othello_, Act IV, Scene II.

'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act I, Scene V.

Mhargaidh Troll Oirthir Mhór: (Irish Gaelic) Great Eastern Troll Market.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Regarding Nuada's memory of Lorcan (who was killed by one of the Demons of Caacrinolaas in Chapter 39): If you're interested in what happened on that winter's day many thousands of years ago, you can read a more detailed account in my short story "The Season of the Wolf". Chapter 1 was posted here on FanFiction last week, and the other two chapters are to follow.


	44. Chapter 43

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Chapter 43**

Nuala's frantic plea rang out through the deserted foyer. "Help! Someone, please help!" She looked back at Abraham's inert form and placed her hands over the gaping wounds on his chest and shoulder as she tried to stem the outflow of his life's blood and do what she could by way of healing. The Hound of Odin had inflicted severe damage on her lover as they'd made their escape from Gretheved's lair beneath Blackstone Castle, and a thick, choking terror rose up in the Elven princess; she feared she was about to lose Abraham. His breathing was shallow and it seemed like most of the blood in his body had spilled out onto the floor and was soaking into her already damp skirts. Worst of all, she could feel nothing of his mind as she touched him. Even the most skilled of healers could not help him now, and she could only pray to the ancient Gods for a miracle.

She lifted her head to call out again and suddenly, her brother was at her side. She instinctively turned to him, her golden eyes wide with distress. Through the haze of her fear, she realised Nuada was looking at her as he used to in their younger days... before the rot had set in between them. She saw only relief and concern in his gaze; there was no trace of the rancour and frustration which had poisoned their love and severed the ties of affection so long ago. The vast ocean of discord and difference was forgotten for the moment.

"Brother! Is there nothing we can do for him?" she asked anxiously, against all hope and reason. If her own healing skills were not sufficient for the task then Nuada's were even less so. Her brother was first and foremost a warrior but in her desperation, Nuala clutched at the straw anyway.

Setting aside his surprise and relief at finding his sister safe, Nuada turned his attention to Abraham and saw in an instant that the ichthyo sapien was in a bad way. "I can heal him," he swiftly assured her, and as sudden disbelief and hope warred on her face, he reflexively reached out and cupped her cheek.

Their gazes held and for a fleeting instant it was as if two thousand years of acrimony and distance had never been. In the midst of her fear for Abraham's life, a whisper of hope brushed through Nuala's mind that her brother might _not_ be as lost to her as she'd thought for all those centuries.

Nuada dropped his hand and half-turned to beckon to Elfraine but she was already moving towards him. As she knelt down beside him she rested her hands on Abraham's chest and after giving Nuala a small smile of encouragement, waited for the Nuada to work the magic to heal the fallen agent.

Nuada placed his hands on top of hers and, whispering the ancient words of summoning, called forth his own magic and Elfraine's. The white-gold glow that they'd become accustomed to as they'd healed the mortally wounded at the Troll Market shone forth from their joined hands and infused Abe's motionless body.

Nuala knew immediately what was happening and she could only stare on in wonder. Though she'd seen some of the rare and miraculous feats of magic worked when she was a child, she'd never thought to witness them again after the last of the great dragons had passed from the world. She could feel the enchantment in the air around her now; it pulled at her and called to her own magic. Her questioning eyes flew to the sharp lines of Nuada's profile but he was lost in the spell and unaware of her scrutiny. Looking past her brother, she saw that Miss Somerled - or rather, Lady Wylde - was similarly entranced. A dragon had made the human woman immortal and it was obvious to Nuala now that the dragon had done much more besides.

And then she thought no more of either Nuada or Elfraine or dragons; Abraham moaned and all of Nuala's attention centred on him once again. The white-gold glow faded from his blue flesh and she saw, to her amazement, that every wound on his body had vanished and he was whole and unharmed once more. She lifted her eyes to his face and found him staring at her, utterly confused.

"What – what?" he began.

"Oh! Abraham!" she exclaimed, overcome with joy and relief. She threw herself onto his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Abe instinctively returned her embrace though he still looked bewildered. "Nuala, what – what happened?" he asked, his dark, aqueous eyes taking in the familiar surroundings of the BPRD. He was certain he'd only just been bending down to help his love out of the stream by Blackstone Castle... in England. Suddenly, he recalled how he'd had the breath knocked out of him as in the very next instant he'd been sent flying by one of the Hounds of Odin. A memory of excruciating pain quickly followed.

With one arm still wrapped around Nuala, he swiftly pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around as if expecting to see the hound but all he saw were the princess's brother and Miss Somerled, both of whom were kneeling beside him. Standing a little way behind them was a tall, striking Elven woman. She was old, and her hair and skin were myriad hues of brown and green. A shiver ran through Abe as his eyes were caught by her piercing, mahogany gaze; he felt as if he was peering into the depths of an ancient forest which concealed dark and strange secrets within its impenetrable heart.

He glanced away from the old Elven woman and turned his attention back to Nuala. "Are you alright, my love?" he asked as he stroked her damp hair.

"Yes, _I_ am fine, Abraham." She pulled back to look at him. "_You_ were the one who was hurt!"

Abe opened his mouth to ask again what had happened but he never got the chance. A noise from above caught everyone's attention.

Nuada swiftly stood, his hand reaching over his shoulder for his sword. He stopped though when he saw that it was only Anung un Rama charging down the stairs.

The demon vaulted over the banister, landing at the foot of the stairs, then straightened up and ran over to his friend. "Blue, buddy!" he exclaimed, the worry clear in his voice. "What's goin' on?" He took a closer look at Abe – and his torn clothing and the blood on the floor – and frowned; the ichthyo sapien looked OK, if a little dazed. "What was all the screaming about? We could hear you all the way up on the rooftop!" said Hellboy, looking down at Nuala. "Sounded like someone was being murdered!" He shot a suspicious glance in Nuada's direction but before he could say anything Liz came running down the stairs.

"Nuala! You're safe," she exclaimed with relief. "You got her back, Abe!"

Abe clambered to his feet and held out his hand to help Nuala up whilst Nuada offered his arm to Elfraine.

"I think Nuala got _me_ back," said Abe with a questioning look at the Elven princess.

Nuala had just opened her mouth to tell them what had happened when several guards came running out of one of the side corridors. They skidded to a halt and holstered their weapons when they saw there was no immediate danger.

"You guys took your time," said Hellboy sardonically.

"What can we say? We're three men down tonight," one of them replied.

"Yeah? Well, you can go back to patrolling now," the demon told them. "We've got everything under control here."

"I'll be the judge of that," broke in Manning sternly as he stepped out of the lift with Kraus and Myers. Kraus looked the same as he always did whilst John was in a hastily-thrown on t-shirt and jeans. His dark hair was tousled and he was rubbing his eyes.

Whilst he finished tying the belt on his robe, Manning glared at the assembled group. "What time do you call this?" The annoyance in his voice was clear. He glanced at the floor just behind Abe before giving the guards their orders. "Clean up in here agents and then get back on patrol." He turned his attention to the others. "Abe! Good to see you back! And you've got the princess." He inclined his head to Nuala. "Glad to see you're safe and sound, Ma'am." His eyes fell on Nuada and Elfraine, and he scowled again. "Where have you two been? And you, prince – you've been here long enough to know the drill. You should've reported to me first instead of haring off after Miss Somerled!"

Nuada started forward with a snarl and Manning took a swift step backwards, his scowl suddenly replaced by a look of fear as he remembered he'd given the rune stone to Miss Somerled. He no longer had anything with which to keep the fierce-looking Elven prince at bay.

"We've been busy, Director Manning," Elfraine replied as she laid a light hand on Nuada's arm.

At her touch, Nuada was reminded of his promise not to kill the Director and stopped his advance. He kept his flat, deadly gaze fixed firmly on the man, however, and his lips twisted in a cold smile for he also recalled what Elfraine had said when she'd traded him the rune stone for the kaleidoscope. Though he might have promised to spare Manning his life, that wasn't to say he couldn't torment him to his heart's content.

Manning swallowed nervously and quickly focused on Elfraine. "_You_ were supposed to report to my office. We were going to compare notes on Gretheved – your husband!"

"He's no husband of mine!" she replied sharply. "That bond was severed when I killed him."

"Well, whatever he is or isn't, you disobeyed an order," Manning grumbled.

"Surely not, Director," she disagreed smoothly. "I'm a consultant if you recall. We come and go as we please."

Manning gritted his teeth as a not-so-demonic snigger came from somewhere behind him.

"Yeah," drawled Hellboy. "I heard that about consultants. Word is, they don't answer to anyone either," he added pointedly.

Before Manning could bite out a reprimand to his most troublesome agent, Kraus stepped forward. "It is der middle of der night," he said. "Some of you could do vith getting cleaned up." He glanced at Nuada and Elfraine. "Und resting," he continued as he took in Nuala's tired face and damp clothes. "Now zat der immediate danger has passed and der Elven princess is returned to us, I propose ve reconvene in der morning."

"Good idea, Dr. Kraus," agreed Abe quickly; he could feel the weight of Nuala's exhaustion and he was concerned for her.

"I guess your reports can wait til morning," conceded Manning. "Nine am sharp, in the Briefing Room people." He started to move back towards the lifts.

"One moment, Director," said Kraus, stopping him in his tracks. "Zere is someone ve haf not yet been introduced to." He looked over to Gràinne and made a short bow to her. The others turned towards the elf-witch who was standing some distance behind the group.

Manning started. "Oh! Sorry, ma'am," he said. "Didn't see you there." He wondered how on earth he could have missed her; she cut a striking figure and he could only put it down to having been so rudely awoken from his sleep.

"Allow me," Elfraine murmured to Nuada, who gave a brief nod of assent. "Does Her Highness know Máistreás Gràinne?" she asked quietly.

Nuada glanced at his sister. He could tell from her face that she'd never met the elf-witch before. "No," he replied.

Elfraine flashed him a quick smile and stepped forward to introduce Gràinne to the Elven princess.

Nuala looked at the _cailleach feasa _in surprise when Elfraine said Gràinne's name. The elf-witch was an almost mythical figure amongst the Fae, talked about occasionally but never, to Nuala's knowledge, seen. The princess inclined her head graciously and made a polite reply in response to the introduction.

As Elfraine moved on to the others, Nuada pulled his sister to one side and murmured in her ear. "I too was surprised when I met her several days ago."

Nuala's golden eyes flew to his.

"Much has changed in four years," he continued. "We must talk, sister – about our people... about – about what happened, and what we will do now."

Nuala tilted her head in surprise; whatever she'd been expecting her brother to say to her, it wasn't that. She held his eyes for a long moment before replying softly. "I know, brother." Suddenly, she recalled one of the things Gretheved had said when he held her captive. "The – the _Mhargaidh Troll_," she whispered urgently. "That – that _creature_ said he would destroy it! Do you know what happened? Is everyone safe?"

Nuada's expression turned grim. "We sustained losses, sister, but most of our people are safe. The market is no longer a refuge for our kind though."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Nuala. An anxious look strained her pale features. "Where..." she started to say.

"Lady Wylde was kind enough to offer us the use of her estate, in England," Nuada continued, correctly anticipating her question. "The survivors are there now. Once I have dealt with Gretheved, I will join them."

Nuala glanced at Elfraine. "That _was_ good of her." There was a pause. "What... what of the Elven court, brother? What damage did it sustain?" Though she'd thought much about the court over the last four months, it was the first time she'd dared to ask how things stood and Nuada's next words only confirmed all her fears.

"None at all, as far as I can tell, sister. I believe the nobles are still arguing over who should lead our people... as they have done for the last four years," he replied cynically.

A frown marred Nuala's smooth, pale brow and an awkward pause ensued before Nuada spoke again. Now was as good a time as any to broach one of the problems he'd been unable to ignore since he'd learnt of Elfraine's past. There had been various parts of her story which had made him think of his own past, and he'd finally acknowledged his need to make his peace with his sister. "Will... will you come to England with me, Nuala?" he asked hesitantly. "I wish to set things right between us and I would welcome your assistance in helping our people." He caught and held her eyes. Extending the olive branch was surprisingly easy but he knew the hard part was yet to come.

"You mean to claim the crown then, brother?" she countered.

"Of course!" he replied, a little surprised she could even ask.

Nuala was silent for a moment as she considered Nuada's request. "You are right when you say we must talk however there is much to discuss and it will have to wait until later. I will say now though, I am not averse to what you ask but there are two things you should understand."

"Yes?" he asked, hoping her conditions would be ones he could agree to but knowing it was unlikely.

"Abraham is my heart's mate and I will not be separated from him," she said firmly.

Nuada waited for the usual stab of jealousy and was surprised when it never came. He inclined his head in cautious agreement.

"And I will never consent to a war against the humans," she continued, just as firmly.

His lips flattened into a thin line. Unsurprisingly, that was going to be the sticking point. After a slight hesitation, he spoke. "As I said, sister, we need to... talk."

Nuala raised her brow at his response. In the past, he would have immediately gone on the attack and tried to force her round to his point of view. True, this was neither the time nor the place for coercion but she dared to hope for a moment that they might actually be able to reach some sort of compromise though it was hard to think what. "And brother," she added as another thought occurred to her.

"Yes," he said, carefully.

"Thank you for saving Abraham."

Looking into her eyes, Nuada didn't know what to say. He saw the gratitude shining in their soft, golden depths and none of her usual distance and distrust. Suddenly, he felt closer to her than he had for far too many years and all he could think was that he wanted to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible. But a response of some sort was required and he voiced what was uppermost in his heart at that moment. "For you, sister, anything," he said.

"Oh, Nuada," she murmured. "If only that were true."

He was brought up short by her words; she was right. He inclined his head abruptly in acknowledgement of her point and with a bleak look, started to turn back to the group. To his surprise, Nuala reached out and stopped him. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tight then released him and looked over to Kraus, who was speaking now. Nuada stared at her profile in disbelief, and then his expression lightened and he too turned to listen to the Doctor.

"I vill arrange a room for your use, Frau Gràinne," Kraus was saying. "Und given vhat you have just told me about your apartment, I vill do the same for you too, Lady Wylde."

"No," broke in Nuada sharply. He found himself the centre of attention. "Lady Wylde will stay with me." There was a startled silence as six pairs of eyes widened in surprise and one helmet bobbed in something that could have been surprise.

It didn't take Hellboy long to find his tongue. "I _knew_ we were missing something! Kissing her hand yesterday and shackin' up with her today. Slick move, prince. You're just _full_ of surprises," he added with a sly grin.

Hellboy suddenly found _himself_ the centre of attention... and none of it good. It dawned on him that he probably shouldn't have spoken his thoughts out loud but it was done now and he wasn't one to back down. He simply shrugged his shoulders.

Liz took one look at the furious expression on Nuada's face and the mean glint in Elfraine's eyes, and decided it was time for her and Red to say goodnight. "C'mon babe. Time for bed," she said, taking his arm and pulling him away. "Elfraine, I'll lend you something to wear if you like. We're about the same size."

"Oh!" Elfraine looked down at her clothes and grimaced when she saw the state of them. "Yes, thank you, Liz," she added, with a smile at the dark-haired woman.

"Night everyone," Liz called out. She gave them all a breezy wave as she headed off with Hellboy. "You can show me some moves of your own," she whispered to him as they left.

"You're not mad at me?" he asked, surprised.

"Nope." She gave him a quick grin. "You only said what I was thinking!"

"Ah! A woman after my own heart," he said with a smirk. Now, if only the kids didn't have any bad dreams tonight...

The rest of the group started to break up.

"Well, that looks to be everything settled," said Manning. He walked over to the lifts and pressed the button. "Remember people, nine am sharp," he called out over his shoulder.

"Glad to see you're all OK," said John quickly. He set off after the Director. "Hold the lift, sir!"

Kraus turned to the _cailleach feasa_. "If you vould care to accompany me, Frau Gràinne, I vill see to your accommodations." He extended his arm and she took it with a gracious nod, and then they headed for the stairs.

As the others had taken their leave, Nuala had been talking quietly with Abe. He turned now to Nuada and Elfraine. "Thank you, both of you, for what you did for me."

Nuada inclined his head in acknowledgement of Abraham's thanks.

"You're welcome, Agent Sapien," murmured Elfraine. She was uncomfortably aware of Nuala's eyes on her and didn't need to be a mind reader to know that the Elven princess was almost bursting with curiosity over Nuada's earlier statement. She deliberately avoided Nuala's gaze and stared determinedly at Abe. It was one thing to try and wheedle information out of the likes of Cearul but she knew full well the Elven princess was likely to discern her true feelings for Nuada and she was anxious to avoid that if she could. She'd likely be gone in a month or so and would rather not face any pitying looks because she'd been so foolish as to fall in love with someone who would never love her in return... and what's more, never even know she'd existed if she succeeded in her quest.

"Oh! And here's your dagger back too, Your Highness," Abe was saying. "Thank you for the loan of it," he added as he held it out to Nuada.

The Elven prince took the weapon from Abe and stared down at it for a moment. He glanced at Nuala before looking back to the ichthyo sapien. "You may use my given name, Abraham."

Abe was surprised. "Th – thank you, Your... ah, I mean, N - Nuada," he stammered.

Nuala gave her twin a glowing look, and then she and Abraham said their goodnights and retired, leaving Nuada and Elfraine standing in the empty foyer. Nuada offered Elfraine his arm and she took it. "I had not thought to ever spend another night here again," he murmured as they started for his quarters.

"It's been a day full of surprises, hasn't it," she agreed. "And none of them especially pleasant."

"No. Not for either of us." He glanced down at her, his look grim as he thought about Gretheved and the events of the day. The man had a lot to answer for and when he got his hands on him, Nuada was going to hold him to account for every last thing. "The only bright spot is that Abraham managed to get my sister safely away from that creature."

Elfraine frowned at the mention of her former husband. They would deal with him soon enough and if the dragon magic was of any use at all, which she was beginning to hope it might be after their efforts at healing the mortally wounded, she would see to the matter herself... again. Only this time, she'd make sure she did the job properly and there would be no returning to life for the misbegotten piece of filth she'd so stupidly and blindly married.

She glanced up at Nuada's sharp profile and made an effort to shake off her own dark thoughts as she was overcome by a sudden desire to bring a smile to his face once more. "There's also the fact that I agreed to spend a month with you," she reminded him with a mischievous look. "I hope that may please you well enough."

He stopped and turned to face her. "Fishing for compliments again, my lady?" he asked dryly.

"I swear, I'd starve if I didn't." Her eyes were alive with laughter now.

Nuada's lips curled in genuine amusement. "Ah, Elfraine. You are a delight to be with... for the most part."

She grinned at that. "And it is my obvious misfortune to find myself in..." She caught herself at her words and looked away, a faint tinge of colour staining her cheeks. "To find myself having agreed to spend a month with the master of the _qualified_ compliment." Her words held a forced note as she turned to continue on to the stairs.

Nuada reached out and seized her hand, stopping her. He pulled her back and spun her round to face him once more. "I expect I will be very well pleased with our month," he said, giving her a questioning look as he drew her in close and wrapped his arms around her waist.

She flashed him a quick smile and started tracing the pattern on the hard leather of his armour. "I know I'll be well pleased, Nuada," she assured him. "And the sooner we get to your quarters, the sooner we can start pleasing each other."

Reaching up, he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her head. He still had a faintly puzzled expression on his face. "Such unseemly haste, Lady," he murmured as he searched her eyes.

"Oh! So you'd rather I dragged my feet then?" she retorted. "That wouldn't be very complimentary to you... and nor would it say much for your_ slick moves_."

His eyes narrowed and Elfraine read the promise of retribution in them. Biting back a smile, she stood on tip-toe and kissed the hard line of his jaw then pulled away to head for the stairs again. She hadn't taken much more than a step when, without warning, she was yanked off balance and swept up in a pair of strong arms. She let out a little yelp of surprise and instinctively grabbed hold of his shoulders to steady herself. "Oh!" she exclaimed, her face alight with amusement once more. "Is that one of your..."

"Do not say it," ordered Nuada succinctly. As he spoke, he knew he was wasting his time - he'd certainly learnt that about her – and so he swiftly followed up his words with action. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, cutting off her own words as he claimed her mouth.

Elfraine suddenly found herself surrounded by him and forgot all about her teasing as she delighted in the feel of him. She slid her hands under his silky hair and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him even closer. His warm, firm lips moved slowly over hers, tasting her, tormenting her, and she made a small sound of approval. Her heart beat faster and a warm, swelling delight coursed through her as the love she felt for him flooded her whole being. It was a moment of such sublime perfection that she didn't want it to end.

Finally though, after one last lingering caress, he broke off their kiss and rested his forehead on hers. "You were saying?" he asked in a low, husky voice.

"W-What?" stammered Elfraine; all she could think of was that he hadn't kissed her for anywhere near long enough.

"You were saying, Lady?" he repeated, his voice steadier now. He lifted his head and looked down into her soft, brown eyes.

"I – I have no idea," she murmured, still dazed.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a lazy, half-smile of pure masculine satisfaction and Elfraine found she couldn't take exception to it. With one arm still wrapped around his neck, she lightly touched his lips with her other hand. Unable to help himself, Nuada pressed his mouth firmly against her fingers, kissing them, and as she felt his lips moving against her skin and his hot breath warming her, she gave a small gasp of pleasure.

"Do – do you think we could go to your quarters now?" she asked unsteadily.

Nuada heard the need in her voice and everything in him clamoured to ease it... and his own desire as well. Suddenly, his rooms seemed too far away and with a dismissive glance in the direction of the stairs, he summoned up his magic.

One minute, Elfraine was in the Bureau's foyer and in the next she found herself in Nuada's living quarters. And if she hadn't already been in his arms, she thought she might not have been able to stand anyway because the burning look in his eyes seemed to melt every bone in her body.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Cailleach feasa: (Irish Gaelic) wise woman, fortune teller.

Máistreás: (Irish Gaelic) Mistress.

Mhargaidh Troll: (Irish Gaelic) [the] Troll Market.

.

_Chapter posted 18th May 2013_

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Once again, many thanks to CrazyNorwegian who has given me permission to use her artwork in the cover for this story :)


	45. Chapter 44

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**A/N: M-Rated Chapter.**

**Chapter 44**

Nuada bent his head and quickly reclaimed Elfraine's lips as he lowered her to her feet. She wound her arms around his neck and returned his embrace but before long, it wasn't enough; too much stood between them. Her fingers flew to the fastenings on his armour and she tugged at them, trying to get them undone, however her hands were trembling and the stubborn clasps wouldn't cooperate. She gave a small groan of frustration.

"I'll do it, _mhuirnín_" he whispered as he stilled her frantic movements. He gave her a swift kiss before he released her and stepped back. It only took a moment to divest himself of his weapons and then he set to work on his armour.

As she watched him go about the task, Elfraine found herself captivated by his expression. He looked so serious, concentrating as he was on getting the fastenings undone. A warm feeling rose up in her chest and her lips curved into a soft smile. Nuada happened to glance at her just then, and paused in his efforts. She was giving him one of those breath-taking smiles of hers and his reaction was instinctive; an answering smile lit up his hard features and to Elfraine, it was as if the sun had come out. She took an involuntary step towards him but a sudden knock at the door startled them both.

Nuada's head whipped round and a look of annoyance flashed across his face. "Yes," he called out sharply, all trace of his smile gone.

"Uh, it's me... Liz," came the reply from the other side. "I've got that change of clothes here... um, for Elfraine."

"I would not have made the mistake of thinking they were for _me_," he muttered as he returned to the fastenings on his armour.

"They'd never fit you anyway," murmured Elfraine, running her eyes over his tall frame before she answered the door. The petite, dark-haired firestarter was standing on the threshold with the folded clothes in her arms.

"Thanks, Liz," said Elfraine. She took the garments from the other woman. "It was good of you to think of me."

"Happy to help," replied Liz, looking curiously past Elfraine's shoulder as she spoke. The Elven prince had insisted on rooms above ground, well away from everyone else. She'd never been inside his quarters and she was a bit surprised by the glimpse she had of them now. The room was very... bland. Everything looked to be standard-issue Bureau - from the dull, uninspiring furniture to the utilitarian fittings to the boring, insipid colour scheme. Although Nuada was still as big a mystery to her as he'd ever been, Liz was fairly certain there was nothing 'standard-issue' about him. She couldn't help but think of Red; he'd stamped _his_ personality all over his quarters, and the first time she'd stepped into his rooms she wouldn't have mistaken them for anyone elses.

A small cough dragged her attention back to Elfraine. "Um, if there's anything else you need, just ask," said Liz, with one last look into the room.

"I will, and once again, thank you for being so thoughtful," replied Elfraine.

"You're welcome. See you in the morning." Liz gave the other woman a quick smile.

"Yes. Nine am... _sharp_, I believe," remarked Elfraine wryly.

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that." Liz was grinning now. "The kids might have different ideas!"

"Poor Director Manning," said Elfraine, laughing with her. "His plans overset by a pair of three year olds!"

"Just so long as they don't do the same thing to their parents' plans," muttered Liz. With a final smile, she turned and walked away. Hopefully, the twins wouldn't be disturbed by bad dreams tonight. A small, worried frown settled on her forehead as she headed back to her family's rooms.

Elfraine closed the door and looked at Nuada. He'd almost finished removing his armour and only had one of his vambraces left to go now. "Here, let me help," she said, putting the borrowed clothes down on a small couch nearby.

He held his arm out for her and she started to untie the fastenings. As she worked, he had a chance to examine her more closely, without the distraction of her kisses and smiles. He saw dried blood caked in her hair and noticed she had streaks of dirt and grime not just on her torn clothing but on her face and arms as well. A quick glance down at himself told Nuada he was in no better state.

Elfraine finished undoing the arm-piece and removed it.

He took it from her hands and put it with the rest of his armour. Straightening up, he reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Perhaps we should clean ourselves first, _mhuirnín_" he said as he glanced down at himself.

He was right, Elfraine realised. "I suppose so," she agreed. "I'd certainly feel a lot better for it."

"You may wash first," he offered. "Whilst you do, I will find something for us to eat."

"Oh! Thank you," she replied. His words reminded her that she was, in fact, starving and she felt a sudden pang of hunger. "I can't remember when I last ate."

"At least you won't starve to death," Nuada observed.

"I think you'll find I _would_ starve to death," corrected Elfraine. "I just wouldn't _stay_ dead!"

"Which is a fortunate thing indeed," he murmured. "You may help yourself to whatever you need. I will return shortly." With that, he left the room and Elfraine looked around for the bathroom.

She spied a telephone on the other side of the room and decided she would ring her steward at Miles Cross first, to see how things were going there. Jamie and his wife Susan would most certainly have met her cousin and some of their other new guests by now, and an explanation was no doubt in order.

**... ...**

When he returned, Nuada heard the shower running and Elfraine singing and splashing about in the bathroom. He'd found some food in the Bureau's cafe and now placed a laden tray on a side-table before walking through the bedroom and over to the en suite. Pushing open the door, he saw Elfraine standing under the steady stream of water, humming now, with her eyes closed and her head thrown back as she rinsed the soap out of her hair.

He was captivated by the sight and his eyes grew warm as he watched her. Needles of water ran down the slender column of her neck and over the delicate rise of her collarbones before cascading off inviting, rose-tipped breasts. A flicker of sensation licked low in his belly as he imagined tracing that path with his tongue. He leaned his shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms over his chest as he watched her.

She finished rinsing her hair and, with her eyes still closed, reached out for a towel to dry them. He started forward to help her but her searching hands quickly found what she was seeking and he silently sank back against the door jamb, his gaze roaming over her body once more. He thought she might have wiped her eyes but he wasn't particularly looking at her face and so couldn't say for sure. The towel dropped to the ground and without so much as glancing in his direction, she turned and retrieved the soap off the ledge. Still humming, she started to lather it up under the running water. She slowly turned it over and over in her hands - caressing it almost – and the flicker of desire which had teased Nuada suddenly flared with renewed life as he found himself imagining her hands touching him like that.

Finally, she seemed happy with the lather and started to wash herself. Extending one arm out in front, she languidly ran the soap up and down the length of the smooth, pale limb. The warmth in his belly grew hotter as he admired the soft lines and enticing curves of her body. She washed her other arm and then started on her chest. Using both hands now, she slowly covered herself with a slick coating of suds. Nuada was mesmerised as her palms glided in circles over her full, firm breasts and a nagging ache settled in his groin as he recalled the feel of them in his own hands.

After several tormenting moments, she moved on. She swept the soap along the sleek contours of her torso and down across the gentle curve of her stomach, all the while massaging the slippery film into her pale skin. The ache in his groin grew more insistent as he recalled how he'd caressed and stroked that skin less than a day ago, laying a trail of kisses all the way from her breasts to her thighs.

As he stared, transfixed, she twisted round now and slid her hands over her hips; he'd held those curves only the night before as he drove into the tight, welcoming heat of her. His breathing quickened and his blood started pounding. He felt himself hardening at the memory and closed his eyes briefly.

When he opened them again, he saw she'd made her way round to her backside. He watched intently as she continued to cover herself with soap, her fingers pressing softly into the firm curves of her derrière. Once more, memory surged – this time of how he'd grasped those same delectable curves at the height of his passion. He was fully aroused now as he thought of the pleasure she'd given him, and he had to fight back the urge to rush over and pull her hands off her body and replace them with his own.

Suddenly, as if she'd read his mind almost, her hands stilled and she stopped humming. She carefully placed the soap back on the ledge, and Nuada found himself holding his breath as the fingers of one hand came to rest low on her stomach, hovering teasingly above the apex of her thighs. She raised her other hand to cup one of her breasts, and he supposed he should have made some sound to let her know he was there but for the life of him, he could neither move nor speak.

She lifted and squeezed the creamy mound, gasping softly as she flicked her thumbnail across the jutting nipple, and Nuada wondered, with a sudden stab of jealousy, if she was thinking of him as she touched herself. And then all thought fled as she pushed her fingers into the triangle of silky, curling hair at the top of her thighs and started to stroke the sensitive flesh beneath. She began to slowly circle her hips against her hand and threw back her head as her lips parted on a small moan of pleasure. Every muscle in Nuada's body tensed, and a sharp wave of lust knifed through him. He ached to bury himself in her hot, silken depths, and his whole being strained instinctively towards her. It was more than he could stand; with a groan, he unfolded his arms and swiftly pushed off from the door frame.

Elfraine turned her head at the sound and stared straight at him through a thick skein of dark, wet hair. Her gaze flew to his arousal, and it was then that Nuada noticed the triumphant gleam in her eye and the satisfied curve of her lips. He froze as he struggled to make sense of that look, a golden haze of lust clouding his mind. And then he understood. It flitted through his mind that her cousin had the right of it; she was a little witch! _S_he'd known all along he was watching and had been deliberately tormenting him.

His own eyes were burning with desire as he stared back at her and his body was urging him to take her then and there but he clenched his fists and stayed where he was, struggling to bring his breathing – and his lust - back under control. His chest rapidly rose and fell and his nostrils flared as he filled his lungs with air.

_Two can play that game, my lady_, he thought to himself. Leaning back against the door jamb, he forced himself into a relaxed pose and resolutely ignored the demands of his aching flesh. One hand went to the neckline of his black shirt and as his eyes roamed leisurely over her body, he started to slowly undo the fastenings. He felt a spurt of satisfaction as _she_ suddenly froze. The smug look on her face rapidly disappeared and it was her turn to watch him like a hawk. A lazy smile of triumph played about his lips; he was going to enjoy this in more ways than one.

Elfraine suddenly found herself unable to move; her little game had fired her own blood and all she could do was watch, fascinated, as Nuada proceeded to undo his shirt. She hadn't heard him come into the room but as she'd dried her eyes on a towel, she'd caught a glimpse of his black leather boots on the threshold. She'd looked up to greet him but he was too busy staring at her breasts and hips... which, admittedly, he was more than welcome to do. However, a wicked thought had suddenly popped into her head and without thinking, she'd acted on it. Teasing him had seemed like a good idea at the time but she started to wonder about that now. It seemed she was about to be repaid in kind.

She gasped softly as he slowly revealed the pale expanse of his muscled chest to her avid gaze. He was like a statue, all sharp lines and hard planes of shadow and light, but she knew the heat of him and the feel of him, and she ached to touch him and press herself against him. She lifted her eyes to his and her knees went weak at the wickedly sensual cast of his face. His warm golden gaze roamed slowly over her body, alighting on her breasts, hips and thighs, and she swore she could feel his touch on her skin everywhere his eyes lingered.

He pushed off from the door frame once more and straightened up. The corner of his mouth lifted as he took off his shirt and let it drop to the floor, and Elfraine felt as if she might melt. White-blonde hair fell forward over broad shoulders and well-defined biceps, its gilt-tipped edges brushing teasingly against his nipples. Her teeth grazed her lip as she imagined her mouth and tongue on the tight, dark nubs. She'd already learnt he liked that and an image from the night before flashed through her mind; his head was thrown back and his mouth was open on a gasp of pleasure as she licked and sucked at the sensitive flesh. A rush of heat flooded through her at the memory.

Her eyes drifted lower, lingering next on the taut ridges of his stomach. A movement of his hand caught her attention and she watched, transfixed, as it came to rest on the clasp of his belt. It was Elfraine's turn to hold her breath now as he paused. She willed him to hurry up and take it off, along with the black pants riding low on his lean hips, but nothing happened. Her eyes flew back to his in silent plea and he gave her a slow, carnal smile in return. "My boots, Lady," he murmured, once more in control and gratified to see _her_ self-control under threat now.

"Y-your boots?" she stammered as she struggled to follow his meaning. All she could think about was him undoing that belt.

"My boots," he repeated firmly, with a nod at the items in question.

She followed the line of his head and stared blankly at his feet for a moment before looking back up. The predatory gleam in his eyes suddenly registered and comprehension dawned. "Oh!" She drew a deep, steadying breath. So, he wanted to engage in a battle of wills, did he? She ducked her head to hide the sudden determined flare in her own eyes; she was not averse to the challenge. She reached around to turn off the water. "You wish me to act the gentleman's maid. Very well... Your Highness," she agreed demurely as she stepped out of the shower and bent over to pick up the towel she'd dropped on the floor earlier. "I await your pleasure."

At her words, a dozen images of all the things he'd like to order her to do flashed through Nuada's mind and his own self-control took a sudden turn for the worse but he was determined to see the game through. "Leave it," he commanded, his voice tight.

She paused in the act of picking up the towel and looked up at him, all wide-eyed innocence. "You don't mind me getting you _wet_ then, Sir?"

His dark lips might have twitched at the obvious innuendo but his eyes also burned with golden heat at the thought. She was clearly not going to make this easy, and the warrior in him rose to the challenge. "I don't mind at all," he assured her, his voice suddenly husky.

She took another deep breath and tried to ignore the wave of desire which coursed through her at the mere sound of his voice. Giving a small shrug, she straightened up and started towards him.

Nuada's eyes were drawn to the sway of her hips as she walked. As she stopped in front of him, the urge to grab hold of those tempting curves was almost overpowering but she suddenly had that smug look on her face again and he resolutely ignored the impulse. Instead, he reached out and taking hold of her shoulders, gently pushed her down.

She sank to her knees; without thinking, she hooked her hand into the top of his pants. She hadn't missed his hot, hungry look as she walked over to him and as long as he didn't kiss her, Elfraine felt she stood a half-way decent chance of winning this game... not that losing it would be any hardship.

Her knuckles pressed against the tight plane of his stomach and he sucked in a sharp breath. She started to pull him forward, reaching up to undo the clasp with her other hand, and Nuada swiftly placed one of his own hands over hers, stilling her nimble fingers. "My boots," he reminded her.

Elfraine glanced up. "Oh!" There was a pause. She pouted slightly and looked back down, her eyes focusing on the hard bulge lying just beneath her outstretched hands. "Are you sure?" she asked breathily. "I mean, I don't mind if you leave them on."

His hand tightened on her shoulder and he closed his eyes briefly as he exhaled. He was sorely tempted but instead, he shook his head slowly. "No."

"Hmm." She made a moue of disappointment.

Those pouting lips suddenly had him thinking of an altogether different use for them. And then, by the Gods, if she didn't run her soft, pink tongue over them as she stared at his arousal! "My boots!" he rasped, his self-control suddenly hanging by a thread.

Her hands jerked under his and he realised he was actually stopping her from letting go of his belt. With his body begging for her touch, he gritted his teeth and quickly dropped his own hand. She released her grip on him and reached for the fastenings of his boots. Nuada bit back a groan as her fingers brushed against his aching flesh on the way down.

He stared at her bent head whilst she worked, his mind – and his body - contemplating all the things he was going to do with her just as soon as she admitted defeat. Finally, she had his boots undone. He kicked them off then reached down to grasp her by the arms. He drew her to her feet and she swayed towards him, pressing her palms against his chest to steady herself.

"What would you like me to do next, Sir?" she asked, glancing down at the hard length of him. Her every instinct was to cede victory then and there. She knew what his body could do to hers, and just thinking about it made her insides clench with desire.

"You may remove the rest of my clothes now," he instructed, his grip on her tightening as he took note of the direction of her eyes. He quickly caught up her hands and placed them on his belt. It took all his willpower not to put them somewhere else.

It took a great deal of effort on Elfraine's part too, to refrain from putting her hands somewhere else and as a consequence they were not quite steady as she removed his belt. However, she got the troublesome thing off at last, and then hooked her fingers into the waist band of his pants and pulled him forward. Before he could stop her, and before she could think the better of it, she was standing on tip toe, placing soft, warm kisses down the length of his neck whilst her busy fingers went to work on the fastenings of his pants. And then she nuzzled the sensitive spot in the crook of his neck and pressed herself into him, gently rocking her hips against his, and Nuada was lost to everything but instinct.

With a groan of pure need, he swiftly clamped his arms around her. One hand slid up into her wet hair and the other slipped down and grabbed hold of her backside, anchoring her firmly in place. As he lowered his head and crushed her lips under his, Elfraine realised she'd probably just lost any chance of winning their game. And then all thought was gone.

She pressed her hands into the taut planes of his stomach and slowly stroked his warm, bare skin as she made her way up his torso. Reaching his chest, she gently teased the tight nubs of his nipples, lightly scraping over them with her fingernails, and he moaned in pleasure. Elfraine opened her mouth to him and met his thrusting tongue with her own as her hands continued upwards, sweeping over his broad shoulders and finally winding around behind his neck. She was on fire with need for him now and desperate to get closer, and as they kissed, she pressed her breasts against his chest and parted her legs in silent invitation.

Nuada immediately took her up on her offer; he swiftly steered her round and pushed her back against the bathroom wall, lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he thrust up, blindly seeking her melting heat. He had no idea whether she'd managed to get the fastenings on his pants undone or not; all he knew was that he was still wearing them and they were getting in the way. With a growl of frustration, he broke off their kiss and lowered her to the ground. He stepped back and swiftly rid himself of the last barrier.

However, as he kicked out of the offending garment he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and suddenly paused; he was covered in blood and grime. He didn't want to take Elfraine with the filth of battle still on him and he realised he needed to get cleaned up before things went any further. He glanced at her and almost changed his mind as he beheld her passion-glazed eyes and the aching look of need on her face. Closing his own eyes, he took several deep breaths and gathered together as much of his resolve as he could. When he opened them again, he fixed his gaze on a spot on the wall, just above her head, and spoke. "I need to wash first."

Though a mind-numbing haze of desire clouded her wits, Elfraine recognised the sudden determination in his voice and thought he meant to continue their game. It was more than she could stand. "I give in!" she said quickly, wanting his mouth back on hers and the heavenly weight of his body pressing into her once more.

He drew a sharp breath; he'd forgotten all about the game. "Nevertheless, I should wash first," he repeated, still not daring to look at her.

Her moan of frustration reverberated through him with exquisite agony, and every fibre of his being strained to ease her need, and his with it. Unable to help himself, he made the mistake of looking at her and knew he was all but lost. With the last of his resolve in tatters, he swept her up in his arms and before she even had time to blink, Elfraine found herself being thrown down on his bed. She let out a small shriek of surprise and instinctively tried to sit.

"Do not move," bit out Nuada as he pushed her onto her back again. His whole body was taut with desire and poised on a knife-edge, and the sight of her spread out before him was an unbearable temptation. "This will not take long."

A look of relief washed over her face and her lips parted in anticipation but in the next instant he vanished. "W-What!" she stammered, quickly sitting up and looking round frantically for him. The click of the bathroom door locking told her exactly where he was. She stared at it in disbelief for a moment before crying out in frustration. "Oooh!" Love him or not, she was sorely tempted to hurl the bedside lamp at the locked door. "I take it back – I _don't_ give in!" she yelled out instead. She heard the shower start to run. "And I'll take your cowardly retreat as _your_ admission of defeat. You can hear my terms for your surrender when you have the courage to show your face again!"

She let out a not-so-small shriek of surprise as Nuada suddenly appeared beside the bed once more, all one hundred and eighty-odd wet, scowling, naked – and still very much aroused - pounds of him. "_I_ will lay out the terms for _your_ surrender when I have finished showering," he said tersely. Then he hauled her up against his chest and gave her a swift, hard kiss before vanishing again.

Elfraine flopped back on the bed, a frown marring her features. But as she thought about that last sight she'd had of him – dripping wet, naked and annoyed... and utterly gorgeous with it – a slow smile replaced her dark look, and she started devising her own terms of surrender.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart, darling.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Just wanted to say thank you too, to recent reviewers. Your feedback is much appreciated.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI


	46. Chapter 45

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

**A/N: Another M-Rated Chapter.**

**Chapter 45**

When he emerged from the bathroom some ten minutes later, Nuada was not at all surprised to discover Elfraine _hadn't_ stayed put as he'd told her to but he frowned nevertheless. Though he'd cleaned himself up, a cold blast from the shower had not done as much to take the edge off his desire as he'd thought it would. He was more than ready to abandon their game and cry peace with her in order to bring matters to a satisfactory conclusion for both of them.

He quickly spied her standing by the side-table in the main living room, staring down at something. She'd found one of his shirts – the one she'd mended several days ago – and was wearing it. He walked up and glanced over her shoulder to see what had caught her attention. She turned her head and gave him a small, uncertain smile then looked at the table again.

"I – I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt," she said distractedly as she reached out and touched a picture frame lying beside the tray of food he'd placed there earlier.

"No, not at all," replied Nuada, looking at the empty frame. It was the one from the poem she'd given him yesterday evening when she'd traded him the rune stone for the kaleidoscope and had made what they'd thought were her final farewells. "But for your efforts, the shirt would be fit for nothing more than rags now."

"But for me, it would never have been placed in such grave danger in the first place," Elfraine admitted wryly as she continued to stare at the picture frame. "After all, I was the one who inveigled it off your back... where I'm sure it would have been much safer."

"You only reminded me of my manners, Lady," he said gallantly though his lips quirked in silent amusement; 'inveigled' was certainly the right word for it. "And in any event, you cannot shoulder the _entire_ blame for its fate," he added, wondering what was really on her mind. "If not for your selfless and courageous actions, my sister would be dead." Amusement fled and a frown flitted across his face as he thought of that incident. It was the infiltrator who'd ruined the shirt… when he'd tried to run Nuala through with a halberd and had ended up running Elfraine through instead.

"Ah, hardly selfless and courageous," disclaimed Elfraine with a small frown of her own. "Not when you know you won't be paying any real price for your actions." She lightly traced the carved wooden pattern on the picture frame as she spoke.

"Maybe not death," Nuada agreed. "But you paid a real enough price in pain and..." There was a brief pause. "And to my shame, I deliberately added to your suffering when I removed the spear." He winced slightly as he thought about what he'd done. He'd been so full of distrust for her and so certain she'd committed some dreadful transgression against one of his kind in order to gain the gift of immortality that he hadn't given a thought to what she'd borne for his sister's sake when she'd taken the blow meant for Nuala. Instead, he'd gotten a vicious sense of satisfaction from inflicting as much agony as he could in removing the spear from her gut. "I am sorry for that," he said quietly.

She turned her head and looked up at him. "I've obviously forgiven you," she replied, with a small shrug of her shoulders. "Rest assured, there was no lasting harm done and besides, I've suffered worse."

Nuada's expression only grew grimmer at that thought.

Elfraine paused and bit her lip as she glanced up at him uncertainly. "I – I'm not sure why, but I, um, I thought you liked the poem I gave you," she remarked hesitantly as she returned her gaze to the side-table. He'd thanked her for it, certainly, and they'd briefly discussed it when he'd come to her lodgings the evening before but she realised he hadn't actually said he liked it and judging by the empty frame, it seemed he didn't.

Nuada now understood what was on her mind; it was clear she thought he'd taken her at her word and had ripped the poem into a thousand pieces. Here, at least, was one thing he could spare her. He stepped away and walked over to where his weapons and armour were lying on the floor.

Elfraine glanced over her shoulder, wondering what he was up to.

He retrieved his sword and returned to stand behind her. Leaning forward, he encircled her with his arms and held the weapon out in front of them, the blade pointing to the floor. He passed his hand across the pommel and whispered a few words in the ancestral tongue of his people. There was a small click and he detached the delicately-patterned piece of cast gold from the handgrip to reveal a hollowed-out compartment running a short way down the length of the hilt.

"How clever," Elfraine murmured. Resting her hands on his forearms, she looked inside. Taking up the whole space was Director Manning's rune stone. She twisted round in Nuada's arms and looked up at him, a small frown creasing her forehead. "Why – why are you showing me this?"

He gave her a brief smile and reached in with two fingers to pull out a folded piece of paper which had been tucked in beside the rune stone. He handed it to Elfraine and she took it from him, wondering why he wanted her to look at Manning's spell. However, when she unfolded the paper she discovered, to her delight, that it was the poem she'd given him. "Oh!" she breathed softly. "I – I thought it was the spell... for the rune stone."

"No. I have committed that to memory and have no need of the written words," he told her as he took the poem out of her hands and started to refold it. "And whilst I have also committed _this_ to memory, I... I value your gift for more than simply what is written here."

"Oh," whispered Elfraine again. His words were so unexpected, they took her breath away. She leaned back against him and clutched at his arms as she searched for something to say but she found herself unable to think of a thing.

If Nuada noticed anything amiss, he gave no sign of it. "I have no place I call my own, and must travel lightly." It was true enough; he hadn't accumulated much over the last four months, only some clothing and a few personal odds and ends, and when he'd left the Bureau the night before – for the last time, or so he thought – he'd left most of those things behind. "The frame is something I simply have no room for," he continued. "But this... well, as you can see, I do have room for it." As he spoke, he put the piece of paper back in the hidden compartment and replaced the pommel. Another few whispered words of magic saw it locked again, and he reached forward and rested the weapon against the side-table.

Elfraine had recovered her poise by now and turned to face him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes. Her joy at discovering that he did, in fact, think enough of her gift to take it with him was tempered by his reminder that he had nowhere he called home. "After I've gone, you – and your people – are more than welcome to stay at Miles Cross for as long as you need," she said softly, repeating her earlier offer. "I hope you'll find a place for yourself there... at least until you're ready to move on. And too, as I said this morning, you're more than welcome to use my lodgings here in the city until the lease expires... assuming there's anything left of them," she added, as she thought of the colossal demon which had come crashing in through the balcony doors as they'd made their escape earlier in the night.

A fleeting frown crossed Nuada's face at this latest mention of her leaving but before he could make comment on it, or thank her once again for her generosity, she splayed her fingers in his hair and pulled his head down to hers, and he forgot about everything except for her warm lips moving gently over his. He slipped his hands under her shirt – or rather, _his_ shirt - and pulled her close, revelling in the sensuous feel of her bare skin against his. Elfraine suddenly felt the touch of cool air on her back and realised he'd just removed the shirt. As it pooled on the floor at their feet, his hands roamed freely over her body and she pressed herself more tightly against him, giving a small moan of pleasure at the feel of him hardening against her stomach.

She was the one who eventually drew away first and she looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire. "No more games, Nuada," she whispered. "I need you."

"No more games, Lady," he murmured in agreement as he caught her hand and raised it to his lips. He then released her and bent down to sweep her up off her feet. Though her slender frame was no great weight to bear, she felt warm and solid in his arms and as he carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them, he couldn't help but think there was something about her that just seemed so... _right_.

As he lowered her to the bed, several more whispered words of magic saw the room's artificial, fluorescent light replaced by a soft, fire-like glow which owed nothing of its existence to human invention. The flickering werelight sent dappled shadows skittering across the walls and ceiling, disguising the insipid colours of the room and lending an unaccustomed air of mystery to its otherwise dull features. Nuada straightened up and stood over Elfraine, gazing down at her. He remembered thinking when he'd first met her that she had the face of an angel and the body of a nymph, and so she did. But whereas then he'd hated her on sight, now - knowing something of how she thought and what she valued, and having learnt much about her spirit, her generosity and her sharp, clever mind - she utterly beguiled him. He'd had many lovers over the centuries, a handful of them human and the rest Fae. However, with the exception of Dihyā and the other Fae woman he would have been honoured to call wife, he couldn't remember when he'd last actually liked any of his lovers quite as much as he liked this human one presently before him. In the midst of the dark, bleak existence which had been his life for too many years now, and despite the current dangers closing in around them, she was a rare spot of light and joy, and he craved the lively warmth of her company.

Looking down at her, his attention was suddenly caught by her gold-flecked brown eyes; they were shining with that light he'd noticed in them earlier - just after they'd saved Cearul – and, as then, it gave him pause for a moment. He stared at her intently, his head tilting in silent question, but her long, dark lashes swept down, shielding her eyes from his. A whisper of unease rippled through him and he was happy to let the moment pass as he continued to look his fill of her.

Deep brown, gold-shot tresses framed the elegant symmetry of her face, and the faint blush of desire lent a warm glow to her pale, flawless complexion. The graceful sweep of her neck and delicate rise of her collarbones formed a finely-wrought work of shadows and hollows, and Nuada could almost taste her skin against his lips as he thought of how he was going to kiss every inch of that alabaster smoothness. His gaze continued to roam over her body, lingering on her full, firm breasts and then travelling down along her slender torso and past her small waist. She seemed to him to be feminine perfection itself, with even the faint, silvery latticework of scars on her belly - the stretchmarks of a pregnancy long since brought to fruition - only adding to the overall impression. His golden eyes finally settled on the inviting flare of her hips. They were ripe with the promise of sensual delight and at the sight of her soft, creamy thighs, lying slightly parted... for him, he felt a surge of lust as he dwelt on the pleasure he'd soon find between them.

Elfraine could see the need on his hard, chiselled face and it called to everything in her. "Please, Nuada, come to bed" she said softly, holding out her arms to him.

It was a request he couldn't refuse. His own body was hard and heavy, and he ached to take his ease in her hot, silken depths. Placing one knee on the bed, he quickly straddled her and trapped her hands in his as he leaned down and settled his mouth over hers.

She thrust her hips up against his body, wanting even more of his heat and his touch, and parted her lips to his seeking tongue. He groaned at the taste of her and the feel of her warm curves undulating beneath him, and although the urge to be inside her as she moved was overwhelming, he held back. He wanted to love her with his hands and mouth first, and he swiftly broke off their kiss and dismounted her before she could tempt him any further.

Elfraine moaned at the momentary loss of contact but then he knelt at her side and reached down between their bodies to stroke the delicate folds of her sex. She instinctively lifted her hips, gasping at the delicious sensations his clever fingers aroused in her sensitive flesh as he readied her to take his hardened length inside herself though in truth, she didn't need much readying. Her hands flew to his waist and she tried to pull him down onto her, wanting the solid weight of his body on hers, but he brushed aside her efforts and continued instead to torment her with his teasing touch. He watched, fascinated, while she writhed beneath his hand, responding to his every caress.

His eyes lit on her breasts and he bent his head, his white-blond hair spilling out over her chest and torso as he took a tight, pink bud in his mouth and laved it with his tongue. She seized hold of his head and pushed up into him, letting out a low, keening cry at the feel of his warm lips and silky hair on her bare skin. Everything about her – her soft, urgent pleas, the sight and scent of her, and the taste and feel of her – was an invitation to join his body to hers but he resolutely ignored both her entreaties and the demands of his own eager flesh. Instead, he kept up the sensual onslaught of his hands and mouth, pushing Elfraine ever closer to the edge.

She was almost mindless with wanting him and reached out towards him again. Before he realised what she was about, she'd taken hold of his arousal and she now began to pleasure him with her hand. The warm, firm grip of her flesh on his, squeezing him and stroking him, excited him beyond all measure and he didn't possess the strength to stop her; he threw back his head and groaned, his whole body shuddering as hot pulses of exquisite sensation knifed through him and the need for release began to build. He closed his hand tightly over hers and guided her, showing her what he liked, and she proved herself an adept pupil. Instinct took over and he started to rock into her touch. The tension in his body coiled tighter with every stroke, and before long Nuada found himself on the edge with her. He swiftly stilled their movements, aware that if they carried on it would be over for both of them before it had even properly begun.

Elfraine made a soft, aching sound of protest at the abrupt stop. She arched up against him, and tried to continue pleasuring him however he held her hand in a vice-like grip and refused to let her move so much as an inch. He drew several deep, steadying breaths and then gently but firmly disengaged her fingers from his stiffened flesh. Leaning over her, he braced himself on the mattress, with a hand on either side of her head, and looked down into her face.

"Spread your legs for me, Elfraine," he murmured, his voice rough with need. He crushed her mouth under his and nudged one of his knees between hers.

"Oh, yes Nuada," she whispered between kisses. She opened up to him, giving a heartfelt sigh of relief as he slipped into the cradle of her thighs. His arousal lay warm and hard against her stomach, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, wanting all she could have of him.

He circled his hips against her soft, beckoning flesh, blindly seeking to ease the carnal hunger coursing through his body, and Elfraine matched his rhythm, moving in counterpoint beneath him as she mapped the taut, muscled planes of his body. The feel of her hands on his skin and the taste of her mouth under his were exquisite torments, rife with the promise of what was to come. Desire, hot and thick, ran through Nuada's veins like quicksilver and his belly clenched with need.

Suddenly, he grasped her hips and held her still. "By the Gods, Elfraine! Don't move!" he gasped against her mouth. He'd just discovered the limits of his willpower, and he could no longer hold out against the satisfaction he knew he'd find in her tight, welcoming heat. With his body crying out for release, he pulled back and guided himself to her entrance.

Elfraine moaned in delight to finally feel the warm, blunt head of his hardened flesh nestled intimately against her. He surrounded her and filled her every sense, and her eyelids fluttered shut as she gave herself over to sensation.

"Look at me," Nuada bit out urgently, half-command, half-plea. He wanted to see her eyes as he drove into her... needed to see her pleasure as he had when they'd made love that afternoon.

She responded to the hunger in his voice as much as to his words and on meeting his gaze, Elfraine knew she might live for all eternity and never see a more compelling sight than that of her Elven lover. His hard, handsome face was tight with desire, and as she lay pinned to the bed beneath the solid weight of him, he seemed to her to be masculine beauty incarnate. Gilt-tipped hair spilled forward over broad, muscular shoulders, brushing teasingly against her face and neck, and the heady, intoxicating scent of his arousal filled her senses. And as he looked down at her, his golden eyes burning fiercely - burning for _her,_ she realised with a brief flare of wonder - she felt as though she were looking into the heart of a white-hot sun.

She wanted him with a need so great, it cast all else into the shade, and she reached up to lightly trace the pale plane of his forehead and the hollows of his cheeks, fascinated by every last little thing about him. As her fingertips explored his face, her hips moved restlessly beneath his and Nuada could no longer wait. He flexed his own hips and buried himself deep inside her with one sure thrust, groaning in pleasure at the voluptuous sensation of finally being sheathed in her warm, velvet depths. She gave a keening cry of delight and arched up, meeting him half way. He filled her and stretched her, and for a brief moment they savoured the incredible satisfaction of simply being joined to one another. But then he adjusted his position on top of her, his hips flexing once more, and suddenly the delicious friction of their bodies became all they could think of as the urge to move obliterated everything else.

He slanted his mouth over hers, seeking to taste as much of her as he could, and as they rocked into each other she returned his kisses. With almost his last conscious thought, he hooked an arm around underneath her and quickly flipped over onto his back so that she was now riding him. The sudden movement seated him more deeply inside her and they both gasped with pleasure at the sensation. He cupped her breast with one hand and lashed his other arm around her waist, anchoring her firmly in place, whilst she braced herself against his chest. And then there was no holding back for either of them as they gave themselves over to the primal, age-old dance.

Nuada drove up into her, hard, and Elfraine met his every thrust. Pleasure engulfed them and still they pushed higher, their bodies striving for completion. All of a sudden, they were hovering on the edge once more - both desperate now to finish - and with one final thrust, they were drowning in bliss. In the split second before she was lost to her own release, Elfraine looked down at Nuada; his face was utterly beautiful in his climax and with his body pulsing into hers, she threw back her head and arched into him, a fierce, keening cry coming from the very depths of her being. Her soul sang with joy and as she was consumed by ecstasy, the dragon magic rose up in her and hurtled her straight into the heart of Heaven. And, as before, Nuada was there with her - in her heart and in her soul – and if she'd thought herself in paradise when they'd been together in the magic earlier that night, and if she'd believed their lovemaking up until this moment couldn't get any better, she knew now that it had all been but a taste of what rapture truly was; they were joined in every way possible and it was beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

Hot, pulsing bursts of pleasure knifed through him and with the full flood of his passion upon him, Nuada had no warning of what was about to happen; suddenly, he was caught up in the cataclysmic torrent of magic and light once more. And this time, buried deep inside Elfraine, with her body clenching tightly around his as he came into her, pouring his life and his strength into her, there was no sense of anything at all being missing. It was perfection, blazing and transcendent, and just for a second it seemed that these brief, shining moments of pleasure – of oneness with her - were what he'd been waiting for all four thousand years of his life. He wanted to hold onto the feeling for as long as he could but such perfection was not made to last and on filling her with the last of his seed, the ecstasy started to slowly ebb.

As he descended from the heights, his heart pounding, his breath coming in harsh pants, and pulses of pleasure still echoing through him, Nuada felt as though he'd been tossed about by _all_ the winds of heaven and earth. But he also felt well and truly sated, and a thick languor soon spread through his body. He gradually became aware of Elfraine's warm weight on top of him and twisted his head to look at her; she'd collapsed in a heap on his chest and her own head was resting against the crook of his neck. With the bone-shattering intensity of his climax now all but faded, he felt her shaking in his arms and wondered what she could possibly find to laugh about at a time like this.

And then he felt a warm wetness against his neck and he realised she was not laughing. He was immediately concerned that he'd done something wrong though he couldn't think what. He'd seen the ecstatic look of completion in her eyes as they'd taken their pleasure together, and he knew they'd _both_ found heaven during those few brief moments of oneness. He took hold of her now and tried to lift her up, determined to find out why she was crying, but she resisted his efforts, keeping her arms clamped tightly around his shoulders and her face planted firmly against his neck.

"Elfraine, _mhuirnín_, what is wrong?" he asked, giving her a gentle shake.

Her only response was to cling even more tightly to him as small tremors continued to wrack her frame.

Not knowing what else to do, Nuada enfolded her in his arms and stroked her hair as he held her. He would obviously have to bide his time until she was ready to speak.

Eventually, she stopped trembling and lifted her head though he noted she didn't look him in the eye.

"It was too... too much," she said, her voice teary and somehow… sad.

He drew a sharp hiss of breath; it seemed he had done something wrong after all though he still had no idea what. But before he could say anything, she continued speaking.

"It was too blazing, too bright, too... too everything!" She sounded almost desperate, she knew, but given how shaken she was by what she'd just experienced - what _they'd_ just experienced - she was incapable of dissembling.

"Too _good_, in other words," Nuada murmured, entirely confused now as he took in her tear-filled eyes and miserable look. He should have been relieved – pleased, indeed - at her words but her tone and appearance left no room for any such feelings, and he wondered whether her strange mood was because she was a woman or human, or - most likely – because she was both. In his bewilderment, he almost didn't notice the strange sense of unease which had taken hold within.

Elfraine sat up properly and finally met his eyes, swiping at her own with the back of her hand. "Yes," she admitted, somewhat reluctantly to his ears. "Too good. It – _you_ were too good."

"And that is cause for tears?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, it is," she replied, sounding entirely desolate now. "You showed me paradise and now I - I _ache_ for you… I want what I know I can't have. Even if we were of the same mind – and I know only all too well we're not - it would still be impossible. You and I have very different paths to travel in this world and we might never meet again." _Wouldn't_ meet again if she succeeded in her journey, she thought to herself, and wouldn't even know the other had ever existed or that the brief, shining moments of rapture they'd just shared had ever happened. A hint of bitter self-deprecation played about her lips. "Call it that hole in my all-too-human heart if you will but I find there's sadness even in Heaven itself, and it tears at my soul something wicked."

And just like that, Nuada's sense of unease crystallised as Elfraine's words brought him up short. The events of the past day had been like a raging torrent, sweeping them along and obliterating almost all opportunity for reflection but now, with only the hours until morning – and the woman before him - to claim his attention, he was forced to think of several things he'd rather not have thought about, least of all at that particular moment. Like most of his kind, he was utterly convinced that the voracious quest of humans to fill the holes in their hearts was an endless, self-perpetuating cycle of destruction fuelled by an innate and insatiable greed... a greed which had burned the holes there in the first place, or so it was held. Though humans might share some things in common with the Fae - certain behaviours and emotions and such like, and he couldn't doubt that they did, not after the millennia he'd spent so closely observing them in their customs and daily habits in order to learn all that he could about his enemy – yet he was more certain than ever that any redeeming qualities they might possess were far outweighed by their fatal flaw... a flaw which had such devastating consequences not just for themselves but for his own people too, and for the earth as a whole. That the ceaseless human quest could be driven by anything other than base greed was not something which had ever occurred to him, and he grappled now with the strange notion that a soul-deep sorrow might also lie behind their futile search to fill those gaping holes in their hearts. As he looked up at Elfraine, not quite sure how he felt about either her _or_ her words in that moment, he felt a small shifting of... something. It seemed that a chink had opened up somewhere inside of him but what it meant, he couldn't say.

What troubled him the most though, was that there was no longer any escaping the thing he now realised they'd been skirting around for the better part of the day. Before the appearance of her third husband, before the revelation it was Gretheved who was behind his and Nuala's resurrection, before the hitherto unseen enemy had stepped out from the shadows - wreaking such devastation upon the _Mhargaidh Troll_ and seizing their undivided attention - it had all seemed so easy… in hindsight. He and Elfraine had shared their bodies for one night, finding a few brief moments of pleasure and ease in one another, and then they should have come to a parting of the ways, more than likely for the rest of all time. But Fate had decreed otherwise and here they were, still together. The earth had turned on its axis just once and as it had turned, he'd come to know - and like - her better than he'd ever thought or wanted to, and he knew from her words to him just now that she liked him as much in return... and more besides. She seemed, in fact, to be teetering on the brink of a declaration but for all that she trailed lightness and warmth in her wake and for all that he'd touched the heavens with her, he was positive he didn't want to hear what he feared she was about to say. He still wanted their month together, certainly, and he'd take more than that if she was only willing to grant him the time. He would even freely admit he cared for what might happen to her in this world, unlikely as it was that she'd ever come to any lasting harm… but he didn't want her words, at least, not the ones he sensed trembling on the tip of her tongue right now, and he told himself he most assuredly didn't want her sad, flawed human heart either.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Werelight: magical light (see Ursula Le Guin's _A Wizard of Earthsea.__)_

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart, darling.

Mhargaidh Troll: (Irish Gaelic) Troll Market.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N: ** Thank you too, to the reviewers of the last chapter. It's nice to have your feedback.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI :)


	47. Chapter 46

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

**Chapter 46**

As Elfraine watched the conflicting play of emotions flicker across Nuada's face, she gave no thought to the fact that her own was an open book. A piece of her heart withered and she closed her eyes against the dull, aching pain. She was a fool twice over, she told herself, and she shook her head at her folly, both in speaking as she had in the first place and in being disappointed now to get the reaction she'd only expected anyway. In a moment of weakness she'd voiced sentiments she knew he wouldn't want to be burdened with and which would ultimately do neither of them any good. There was never going to be any future for them beyond the month they'd agreed upon and judging by the closed, wary expression on his face even that seemed in doubt now. She'd all but confessed her love to him and she could only be thankful she hadn't been so lost to all good sense as to actually utter those three fatal words. She drew a deep breath as she prepared to try and salvage _something_ of her pride and recapture, in some small measure, the ease which had existed between them up until a few moments ago.

Nuada, for his part, floundered at the sight of her misery. He might not want her heart but he also didn't want to see her sad, he realised. With not the slightest idea of what he was going to say - of what he _could_ say - he opened his mouth to speak but she forestalled him.

"Please, pay no heed to my foolish ramblings." She held his gaze with grim determination. "You took me to Heaven and back, and I repay you with tears and…" She paused as she steeled herself to continue. "And words which have no place between us."

Nuada knew immediately that he'd been handed a reprieve of sorts but perversely, instead of relief all he felt was a flicker of – what? Disappointment? He frowned and glanced away.

Another piece of Elfraine's heart shrivelled but she forced herself to continue. "I've no doubt such experiences are commonplace to you but they aren't to me and..."

His eyes flew back to hers. "Nor are they to me, Elfraine," he broke in quickly. He was surprised she could think they were.

"W-what?" she stammered, clearly startled by his words. "You were _born_ with magic running through your veins… unlike me. How could they not be?" A small frown creased her brow.

"I assure you, they are not." He reached up and gently brushed a curl back from her face, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. "You say I took you to Heaven – you _were_ Heaven to me and I have never…" He stopped abruptly and dropped his hand back to the sheets as he realised just what it was he'd been about to say. For a brief second, his dark, golden eyes clouded with confusion as he stared up at her and then the shutters came down.

In spite of everything her mind told her, Elfraine's heart lifted. She suddenly remembered some of the things he'd done for her that day: the compassion he'd shown her when reading her diaries, holding her and offering what comfort he could as they discussed those painful memories; his remark that he'd know if she somehow left this world – though quite how he'd ever manage that escaped her; and even though she'd never come to any lasting harm, he'd shown a care for her person which made her go weak inside. It hadn't exactly been necessary to get her out of harm's way when the gigantic demon in the Troll Market had been about to crush her, nevertheless Nuada had taken a risk and knocked her aside, and all to spare her the excruciating pain of a death from which she would have recovered anyway. "What – what do you…" she started to ask hesitantly now, hardly daring to hope.

Nuada swiftly laid a finger on her lips, silencing her question. "Lady! Please! Let us leave it at that." His voice held an almost desperate note and his gaze urged her to accede.

Elfraine's heart sank like a stone and her nascent hopes with it as she took note of the closed, wary expression which had settled on his face once more; he truly didn't' want to discuss the matter further. She glanced down, away from him, as she struggled to bring her emotions under control. She most certainly didn't want him to see the tears she could feel pricking at the back of her eyes; he'd already seen enough of that sort of thing from her. Though his words seemed to suggest her feelings weren't all one-sided, that there was more between them – _might_ be more between them – than mere lust, she wasn't about to press him for something he was obviously unwilling to give. Whatever this thing was, Elfraine knew it was fragile and she didn't want to break it. They only had a month together at best, for she wouldn't - couldn't - delay her quest any longer, and if his half-said words were all she'd ever have from him then it would have to be enough. And really, when all was said and done, she was in no worse case than she had been two minutes ago.

"Very well," she agreed quietly. "It's probably best that we leave it there." Nuada's expression eased a little and Elfraine gave a wry smile. "I daresay it's all the fault of the dragon magic," she murmured, for want of anything better to say which wouldn't reveal any more of her disappointment to him.

This time there was no confusion on Nuada's part; he was relieved she'd fallen in with his request and he quickly picked up on her comment as a means to steer them away from the treacherous straits they'd suddenly found themselves in. "What has the dragon magic to do with anything?" he asked.

Elfraine flashed him a look of disbelief. "You can ask that after… after what just happened?"

Nuada realised his hasty question had steered him in the wrong direction entirely but Elfraine granted him another reprieve.

Though her heart twisted at the sudden, cornered look on his face, she continued talking… wittering really, she supposed. "For the better part of the last four hundred years it hasn't done much more than animate my sorry carcass in defiance of _everything_ that's natural - for my kind, at least - and now_, _all within the space of one day, it suddenly decides to show me it's capable of other things besides! And to intercede as it did – uninvited - in the private business between a man and a woman… It's beyond the pale!" Her words were meant as a jest, to lighten the mood, and she accompanied them with a smile but it didn't quite reach her eyes and there was a tightness about her mouth.

Nuada knew what she was doing and could have kissed her for it. "But… _interesting_ all the same," he said, quickly responding in kind. He leered at her for good measure.

She gave him a narrow look but after a moment her lips started to tremble and her eyes suddenly lit up with that sparkle which told him her amusement was genuine now. He exhaled on a rush of breath which took him by surprise; he hadn't realised he'd been holding it.

"You _would_ say that! I, however, beg to differ!" she informed him tartly. Her smile, though, softened the words.

Suddenly, she found herself flipped over onto her back and Nuada pinning her to the bed with his weight.

"So, you think I was not particularly interesting, after all," he murmured, bracing himself on one arm before he bent his head and pressed his warm lips to the pulse at the base of her neck. His teeth lightly grazed her collarbone and his other hand swept down the length of her torso, from breast to hip.

"Oh n-no! I wasn't saying that at all," she whispered breathlessly as he made his way up the column of her neck and along her jaw line, alternately kissing and nipping her smooth, creamy skin. Elfraine clutched at his broad shoulders and arched up against him.

He reached her lips and his mouth hovered over hers, a mere hairsbreadth from Heaven. "Good," he murmured, his breath fanning her lips as he looked down into her eyes. And still, he didn't kiss her.

_God's blood!_ thought Elfraine to herself. What was he waiting for? She was about to take matters into her own hands when he swiftly rolled off her and sat up.

He leaned back against the headboard of the bed and smirked down at her. "Then I will obviously not need to remind you."

"You – you… ohhh!" she spluttered. She quickly knelt up and grabbed a pillow, and started hitting him with it.

He was laughing outright now and only made a half-hearted attempt to fend off her blows; he was more than happy to let her take her revenge on him. There was no trace left of that sad look she'd had in her eyes and all was right with the world once more. It came as something of a surprise to Nuada to realise it had been many hundreds of years since it had felt that way to him and he wanted to enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

Reaching out, he plucked the pillow from her hands and tossed it aside then hooked an arm around her waist and hauled her onto his lap. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and raised her face so he could look at her. "You should always smile, Elfraine. It suits you." Then he bent his head to hers and finally gave her the kiss she wanted. And though his body urged him to get closer still, it was enough for the moment to hold her tight in his arms, tasting her and breathing in the scent of her as his mouth moved over hers.

"I think my face will be sore from smiling at the end of our month," she murmured unsteadily when they broke apart some minutes later. "For you surely know how to put one on it."

The reminder that they would have so little time together had a sobering effect on Nuada. She'd told him earlier in the day that she appreciated his honesty and even though he knew he should let sleeping dogs lie, he supposed he at least owed her honesty now. He took her by the shoulders and looked down at her. "I – I'd give you more if I could, Lady," he said quietly. To his dismay, the bright light in her eyes quickly died as he once more turned the conversation to the sticking point between them.

It was Elfraine's turn to lay a swift finger on his lips. "I thought we'd agreed to leave things be," she reminded him. He'd said something very similar only that afternoon. Though it had made her a little sad, it hadn't had the power to break her heart. At the time, thoughts of love had never even entered her head though looking back she realised she was more than half-way to falling in love with him even then, well before the dragon magic ever decided to take a hand in matters. Now, she didn't think she could hide her tears if he took away the one thing she had to hold onto… the thought that he _might_ have deeper feelings for her. And so her eyes pleaded with his.

She was right, Nuada realised as he looked at her. He didn't know what maggot had induced him to raise the matter again, and his desire to be honest with her suddenly seemed like nothing more than a perverse excuse to pick at a festering sore. "Forgive me, _mhuirnín_. We did agree to that… and at my request too."

"Well, no harm done then," she said, as she cast her mind about for a way to make light of the whole thing and lay it to rest once and for all. "_I shall crave your pardon_ in turn." She gave him a wry smile. "I've been rather gauche this evening and can only put it down the sort of day it's been." _And to my foolish heart_, she added to herself. "You wouldn't think I'd spent almost half my life in the courts of Europe and do actually know how these things work."

"You must have been a favourite with the kings and queens," said Nuada, quickly following her lead with his compliment. Once more, he was grateful to her for attempting to smooth over yet another of his blunders.

"As I believe I've told you before, in my _natural_ life - in the courts of Elizabeth and James – yes, I was," she agreed, without the slightest hint of embarrassment; after all, it was only the truth. "Though as you know, my fortunes ebbed and flowed considerably at times. In my _unnatural_ life, however… well, let's just say I managed a feat I think even an elf would be envious of and I had no need of magic to do it." She gave him an arch look.

"Pray enlighten me, Lady," he invited as he settled back to listen to her. He stretched his legs out in front of him and suddenly winced.

"What's wrong?" asked Elfraine quickly, a note of concern in her voice.

"Ah, nothing," he replied with a slight grimace. "I'd forgotten entirely about the injury to my leg and it has just reminded me of its existence."

"Oh." She swung her knees to the side and looked down at the wound he'd received earlier in the evening when they'd fought the shadow beasts on the balcony of her apartment. She saw at once that he'd done no damage and that the stitches held. Leaning in closer, she inspected the torn flesh and noted that it had already started to knit together. "You had the right of it when you said it wouldn't take long to heal," she murmured. "I think you must have some dragon magic in you too."

"Dragon magic, elven magic, any magic… it's all one and the same," he told her. "Just stronger or weaker, and capable of different things, depending on whose veins it runs through." He pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her once more. "Now, tell me about this amazing feat you say you managed." All was well between them again and a fleeting sense of peace whispered through him as he settled down to listen to her tale.

Elfraine rested her head on his shoulder and slipped her arms around his waist. "You'll find it hard to believe, I know, but for one hundred and seventy-odd years I managed to stay almost entirely _invisible_ - to the kings and queens, and lord and ladies, that is… and the princes and princesses too," she added, glancing up at him with a teasing smile.

He caught her eyes and gave her a puzzled look. "And you say you used no magic! I don't understand."

"No, you wouldn't," she laughed, "and not because you're an elf with magic in your veins but because you're a prince… unless, of course, they do things differently in Elfland."

He arched a cool brow at her. "I still have no idea what you are talking about. Pray enlighten me, Lady Wylde."

His regal manner and tone made it immediately clear to Elfraine that he was ordering her to tell him what she meant but she could see a spark of humour lurking in the depths of his dark, golden eyes and she merely rolled her own at him.

"You are impossible," he said, no longer bothering to try and hide his amusement. He was about to press her further when he recalled something from several days ago and his gaze suddenly narrowed with suspicion. "The last time you told me you were invisible you also compared me to the village idiot. I trust you are not thinking of making such a comparison again."

"What? Oh, no! Not at all," she quickly assured him after recalling their discussion – argument, really – in the grounds of the BPRD a few days earlier. A dreamy look came into her eyes as she remembered how he'd held her and how he'd almost kissed her. He was the one who'd been invisible then. Her soft look rapidly vanished as she also remembered how he'd most unchivalrously fled, leaving her to look an idiot in front of Hellboy and Liz. And he'd pinched her on the backside to boot! She owed him something for that, Elfraine thought to herself as her own eyes narrowed. "In point of fact," she added, with a sly look at him, "I didn't actually _compare_ you to the village idiot."

He opened his mouth to disagree.

"The implication was that you _were_ the village idiot!" She smothered a laugh at the disgruntled expression on his face.

"Very well then, Lady," he said, unable to maintain his annoyance at being called an idiot, at least, not when she had that sparkle in her eyes. "I cede the point. Now, please Elfraine, tell me how you managed to be invisible without the aid of magic."

"Certainly Nuada… seeing as you ask so nicely." She flashed him a mischievous look. "I managed the trick by virtue of being counted amongst the lower orders."

He stared at her with startled incomprehension. "But you are a Lady… a Countess!"

"That didn't do me much good after 1615," she pointed out.

"No," he murmured thoughtfully. "I don't suppose it would have… not once they'd…" He stopped abruptly, unwilling to complete the sentence.

Elfraine finished it for him. "Not once they'd hung me. After I returned, first from the dead and then from Constantinople…" She felt Nuada suddenly tense up and this time she was the one who stopped abruptly. A look of concern shadowed her eyes as she stared at him, and she hesitated.

He was silent for a long moment. He'd been delivered one of the greatest shocks of his life earlier that evening but before he'd even had a chance to begin to assimilate what Elfraine had revealed to him, the events of the night had crowded in on them and put an end to any opportunity to learn more about what had happened in Constantinople all those centuries ago. And now, many hours later and having the opportunity once more, he found himself reluctant to hear the details and cursed himself for a coward. He would have the story before the sun rose, he knew, but not just yet. "Please, continue with your tale, Elfraine," he said quietly. "You can tell me about – about Dihyā and… and my son later."

"Of course, love," she replied, giving him a fierce hug. She knew exactly the loss he'd suffered and she understood his reluctance to confront it. Suddenly, her concerns about her own heart seemed selfish and petty. There were vastly more important things in this world than hopeless wishes and foolish dreams about elven princes. She kissed his cheek and continued on with her story, though no longer with the same note of levity as before.

"Well, about two years after I'd made my way back from Con…" She faltered then recovered. "After they'd hung me, my life… it – it had changed so much. _Everything_ was gone and I was finally forced to face the fact that I'd have to earn my keep. I couldn't go on with the hand to mouth existence I'd fallen into. That first winter alone, I starved to death twice. The thought of living like that for all eternity…" Her voice trailed off.

Nuada felt a faint shiver run through her frame and tightened his hold on her.

"But of course, it _wouldn't_ have been like that for all eternity – we adapt, after all, and that's what I did. However, being a Countess I had few resources to fall back on at the time… or rather few which would enable me to make the quiet living I desired. I had a sure aim with pistol and bow, and I was accounted one of the best horsewomen in the kingdom, having learnt from necessity to keep up with the late queen. I - I had also latterly learnt something of the art of swordplay." She glanced up at Nuada.

He merely looked down at her and inclined his head. He knew why she hesitated; earlier in the evening she'd told him it was Dihyā who'd taught her how to fight, and he recognised her care for his feelings now.

Elfraine continued. "However, none of those skills seemed conducive to a quiet life."

"You may take it from me, they are not," he murmured.

"Indeed not. And in any event, it was hard to see how I could make any real use of them. I'd never given it much – _any_ - thought before but being forced to make my own way in the world, without position or title, money or friends, I soon discovered how… constrained I was by my gender." She fell silent for a moment, a wry smile playing about her lips. "In my stock take of talents, I found I had only two others: I could sew and I could play several instruments. Oh! Three talents!" she exclaimed as something else occurred to her. "I could read and write. It's common enough these days but in my time it was a rare thing and rarer still amongst women. I did try to become a governess in the early days. I'd completely forgotten that." Her voice trailed off and a small frown creased her brow.

"But without success," he prompted.

"Yes, without success," replied Elfraine. "I was sorely hampered by a lack of references and the idea of forging anything hadn't yet occurred to me. Even if it had, it wouldn't have done me any good in the line of work I was trying to get into – I knew the first three families I applied to from my days at court and they obviously knew me in return. I couldn't imagine any of them entrusting their children to me: The Butcheress of Blackstone Castle, a murderess, someone who'd been hung several years earlier and who should have been nothing more than a mouldering corpse."

"I see the dilemma," he said before brushing his lips against her hair. That last image disturbed him.

"Anyway, none of my skills seemed particularly useful to me. I thought I could hire myself out as a labourer - you know, work in the fields. I had some experience from my last years at Miles Cross, I wouldn't need references and I wasn't likely to run into anyone I'd known in my previous life. Mind you," she said slowly as a thought occurred to her, "it hadn't even been five years since my hanging and I later learned my notoriety had continued for many years after I'd supposedly died… mainly on account of the grave diggers who'd been tasked with cutting me down and burying me – and thanks too, to my own stupid actions in the two years I was back. And there were those broadsheets too. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea after all." She heaved a sigh. "In any event, I discovered first-hand that a woman without family or connections was not exactly greeted with open arms in the villages and towns, or indeed, even in the cities unless, of course, she was applying to the Bawd House… which advice I was given on more than one occasion. As I racked my brains to come up with _something_ that I could do, I remembered the musicians who used to play at court and I realised I'd found just the thing. Not in England, of course," she added hastily. "I thought to try the Continent. I spoke French and had a smattering of Spanish, and with music being a language spoken everywhere, I was sure I had all I needed to make a new start."

"Why not England?" asked Nuada.

"For the same reasons I could be neither governess nor labourer there," she replied. "England was a most… _uncomfortable_ place to be, for many reasons, and it was a long time before I set foot on English soil again."

Nuada shook his head as he looked down at her. His own life had been hard enough but he'd had the Silverlance and his sword, and there'd been Mr Wink at his side as brother-in-arms and friend, and in spite of everything he'd been able to make his way in the world without too much difficulty. He could only imagine what her life must have been like; even as a court musician, she would have run up against the unavoidable problem of her sex. "So, you hoped to find better luck elsewhere." There was a definite note of skepticism in his voice.

Elfraine gave a short laugh. "I counted on it! Foolish as that might seem," she admitted.

"You must have still faced the same problems though," he observed. "I doubt that life on the Continent would have been any easier for a woman alone."

"It wasn't, and I'd realised by then that I'd have to take measures before I set out." She smiled briefly. "In order to start my career on the right foot, I bound my breasts, put on a pair of breeches and presented myself to the world as Alfred Somerset, a roving youth from the south bank of the Thames. Life became easier overnight," she added, a little cynically.

"And so you set forth on your new career." He eyed her critically as he spoke, wondering that she'd managed to fool anyone. She was small-boned and not overly tall, certainly, but no matter how much she bound them he doubted she would have been able to entirely conceal the swell of her breasts, and as for her other curves… his eyes dropped to the flare of her hips and lingered there for a moment.

"Not quite," she said, breaking in on his wandering thoughts. "There was still one more thing to be done."

His head came up sharply; she sounded almost… sad.

"The dragons," she continued. "I – I can't explain it but I was convinced that I couldn't leave England without them. And so I returned to Miles Cross again."

"How – how did you find things there?" he asked cautiously. It was clear from her tone that something had happened.

"Well enough. The new owner seemed to have everything in hand and my tenants were no worse off than when I'd been Lady of the Manor. But, um… well, I'd hoped for a warmer welcome. Stupid of me, I know." Her lips twisted in a bitter half-smile.

"Ah, I see," said Nuada with quiet understanding. "They were… surprised to see you back from the dead."

"That is an understatement to say the least," said Elfraine, looking down at her hands. "I hadn't expected anyone to be particularly overjoyed at my return – surprised, certainly – but I never even got the chance to explain myself, not that I think the truth would have served me any better in their eyes. I soon discovered I was nothing more than an abomination of nature – an offence to God. I was called spectre, demon, ghost, and many other things besides. Strange to think that even after all this time, it still hurts to dwell upon how quick they were to abandon me, not that I blame them." She fell quiet for a moment. "I – I got the dragons, quickly left before I caused any more upset, and that was the end of that. On the journey back down to London, I soon worked out how best to conceal the hatchlings and care for them, for they weren't much bigger than when I'd last seen them though they were far hardier by then, and after I returned to the city it was but a short distance to France and a new life. And from then on in I was invisible to all but my fellow musicians and a few of the other servants in the great houses and palaces of Europe."

"And all without the use of magic," Nuada observed, understanding now exactly what she'd meant.

"Precisely. We were part of the furniture, part of the background… put on this earth for the amusement of our betters, and for no other reason." She gave him a wry look. "It was hard in the beginning. I'd been a lady of consequence, a woman of standing, someone to whom others deferred even though I was broke more often than not, and then suddenly, I was… _nothing_. Even the time I'd spent in Constantinople didn't quite prepare me for the total loss of… of - I don't know – of counting for something in the world. I know it's no way to measure a person's value or worth but still, it was difficult."

He could understand that feeling, Nuada realised. He'd gone from being the Prince of Bethmoora to being a prince of nothing, and all by his own doing. Going into exile had been a principled stand, one he would take again in an instant, and he measured himself against more than the yardstick of 'prince'. But he had to agree with Elfraine; it was hard going from something to… nothing. "We adapt though," he murmured, recalling what she'd said not too many minutes ago.

"We do indeed," she agreed. "It's surprising what you get used to when you have to, and I quickly adapted to my new status. Occasionally the cloak of invisibility would slip, particularly if one of the ladies or gentlemen took a fancy to me but I became fairly adept at fending off those sorts of advances. And if my… admirer would not be put off, well, I simply moved on."

"You never ran into any who tried to force you?" he asked sharply. He knew full well just what little weight had been accorded by many of the human aristocracy to the wishes of servants and other employees in those times.

"I did, on several occasions, but I had learnt how to defend myself and so there were none who ever succeeded. By the time I returned from the East, I always carried a dagger on me and I knew how to use it." She reached up and smoothed away his frown. "You don't have to scowl so fiercely… unless, of course, your dark look is _not_ on my behalf."

"It is, Lady," he affirmed, catching hold of her hand and carrying it to his lips. "I do not like to think of you ever having been in such a situation."

"I thank you for the thought Nuada however you needn't fash yourself on my account. Though such things were never pleasant, I managed well enough and we are not talking about a great many instances." She gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "And besides, as much as I hate to labour the point, it wasn't as if I was going to die."

"You accept such things too easily!" he said curtly, the frown reappearing on his face once more.

For a moment Elfraine was taken aback by both his words and their implication, and then she quickly released his hand. Pulling away from him, she arched a brow at the elven prince and addressed him in cool, measured tones. "My stated view of such things is my way of putting them in their proper place, which, according to my list of concerns, is some distance south of the place assigned to _what-I-ate-for-dinner-three-hundred-years-ago_. It should not be interpreted as being _acceptance_ of anything."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Nuada knew he'd made a misstep and offered her an insult, albeit unintentionally. And he knew too, that he'd just been put in _his_ 'proper place'. Though she spoke calmly enough, her manner and tone held the right amount of hauteur and formality to make that perfectly – and more-or-less politely - clear to him. A dark flush stained his cheeks. "I beg your pardon, Lady Wylde," he said stiffly. "That was unforgivable of me." His golden eyes were shadowed with regret as he held her gaze and awaited her verdict.

Elfraine's expression softened as she stared back at him, and it struck her anew that there was so much to admire in him. He'd offered his apology immediately and sincerely, and he hadn't sought to lessen its value by attempting to justify or explain away his careless words; it was an easy thing to accept. "And yet you have my forgiveness, Your Highness," she replied, her tone and look warm again.

His lips curled in a self-deprecatory smile as he reached for her and pulled her back in close. "Then kiss me, Elfraine, and let's be friends once more."

She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him. "We are friends, aren't we." It was a statement more than a question, and although she wanted so much more from him than that, she realised she could count his friendship amongst her greatest treasures.

He took both her hands in his and raised them to his lips. "We are _good_ friends, Elfraine," he murmured, "even though our friendship is not of long standing."

"Does that matter?" she asked curiously.

He was silent for a moment. "No. It does not matter at all, _mhuirnín,_" he replied. "And I _am_ sorry for what I said. I dislike the thought of you having to fend off such attention. I know full well what you must have faced."

"Oh, Nuada!" she exclaimed, her eyes alive with amusement. "You are determined to thrash this out, aren't you. Did no one ever tell you that sometimes it's best to leave well enough alone?"

His lips quirked as he inclined his head in acknowledgement of her point. "My father, my teachers… my sister! They all tried to impress that lesson upon me."

"With no great success, I see," she teased.

"With no success whatsoever," he admitted wryly. "I never believed it to be true. I was always certain that with enough effort _anything_ could be improved upon.

"The world is hard on idealists," Elfraine observed softly.

"An idealist!" His head came up sharply at that and he pinned her with his dark, golden gaze. "I have never considered myself an idealist!"

"No?" She was a little surprised. After four thousand years, she'd have thought he knew himself better than that. "How do you see yourself then?"

"I am quite the opposite," he replied, his voice hardening. "I take the world as I find it and deal with what I am handed."

"Ah! A realist then," she essayed.

"If you like," he said warily. The conversation was starting to make him feel… uneasy.

"So, where do your plans for your people fit in?" she asked, genuinely wanting to know. "For surely you seek to improve their lot, do you not?"

Nuada inclined his head stiffly. He was beginning to see where her questions were leading.

"And on the strict definition, that is the mark of the idealist," she continued. "The _realist_ makes do with what he has; he doesn't seek to improve on it."

"You twist my words, Lady," he countered. "My people need a king who recognises exactly what it is we are facing… a king who will take the appropriate measures."

"Your people had such a king in your father." She winced inwardly as his expression suddenly cooled but she forged on anyway. "He accepted the impossibility of the situation and made his plans accordingly. You would know better than I but I gather he did not dream of a better future for your people. I cannot believe he would have found your people's case impossible had he done so."

Nuada knew immediately what she was getting at. "My father was the dreamer and the fool, not me!" he asserted angrily.

"Hmmm." Elfraine's disbelief was evident but she knew she was sailing into the wind and so it was time to change tack. "In your tortuous efforts to avoid the label 'idealist', you harness the words 'fool' and 'dreamer' and fall into the common trap of conflating them," she stated evenly.

"They _are_ one and the same!" he bit out.

"They are not. That is why they are two words." Her logic seemed unassailable… to her, at least.

"You deal in sophisms and semantics, madam!" Nuada snapped back. He immediately kicked himself; he'd vowed never to call her 'madam' again, not after learning her third husband – their enemy, Gretheved – had called her that.

Elfraine's eyes lit up. "Sophisms and semantics." She tried the words out for size. "Ohhh! I like that! I'll make sure to remember it for future use."

"Pity the poor soul you take aim at," Nuada muttered.

Elfraine took pity on him instead. With a delighted laugh she pulled his head down to hers and, threading her fingers through the silken fall of his white-blonde hair, proceeded to kiss the glowering look off his face.

Nuada hesitated for only a second before wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, and as he returned her kisses his irritation slipped away, unnoticed.

To Elfraine's disappointment, he was the one who pulled away first though she noted with satisfaction that it cost him some effort to do so.

"Ah, Lady," he said on a sigh as he rested his forehead on hers. "You pull me hither, thither and yonder, and upend everything. And yet it would be a hard misfortune indeed to have never met you."

Elfraine froze; his words were too close to the truth of what was going to happen – if she was… _lucky_. The word suddenly seemed laden with irony. She had no business vexing him, she realised, not in the normal course of events and most certainly not now. "Oh, Nuada, it's my turn to apologise. I shouldn't tease you so," she said quietly. "You are four thousand years old and I've only known you for two weeks… for _less than_ two weeks." A hint of sadness flickered in her eyes. "I bow to your superior knowledge for I can't possibly claim to possess any deeper insights into either yourself or the situation your people face."

Her words surprised Nuada and he wasn't quite sure how to respond.

Elfraine continued talking. "There is one thing I do know though - with every fibre of my being - and you can indeed blame the dragon magic in this instance, for I felt it when we were together in the – the blazing sun – the magic… whatever it was. Everything begins in dreams and every age needs its dreamers, its visionaries. Your time to shine has not yet come but it will. And when it does, you will rise to the occasion. Turn away from the dangerous face of idealism – Golden Armies and such like – and you'll get the balance exactly right… the balance between things as they stand and things as they might be. I - well, that's what I know." She sounded almost defensive as she finished speaking and ducked her head.

Nuada sucked in his breath and swiftly set her back from him. He had no idea what to say. In the eyes of the world – his people, his family, himself – he was a warrior, the one who faced the enemy and stood fast against the tide even when the odds were stacked against him, as they had been these past two thousand years. How anyone could ever see him in any other light was beyond him. And yet here was this woman – this human! – telling him he was a dreamer! A visionary! That his time to shine had not yet come! That he should _turn away from Golden Armies and such like_! She knew _nothing_ of his life, a life of bloodshed and war, of exile and grief, of carrying the weight of his people's future on his shoulders… a life that had no place for _visions_ or _dreams_ or _shining_! Who was she to…?

He stopped abruptly, reining in his fierce, churning thoughts as he looked down at her bent head. He suddenly remembered what he'd learnt about her… what he'd learnt about her life. She knew as much about bloodshed, about exile and grief as he did, he realised. Her daughter had been murdered before her very eyes and she'd had to watch as her child's body was mutilated and then burned. She'd wandered the earth, much as he had, adrift and with no place to call home until she'd regained her beloved estate by dint of her own efforts. And in the stewardship of her estate, she'd learnt what it was to bear the responsibility for the well-being of others.

Suddenly, Nuada couldn't find it in himself to argue with her. Though she disturbed him profoundly with her words, they were friends - _good_ friends, he told himself - and he disliked the thought of hurting her feelings by speaking sharply to her. He drew a deep breath and attempted to make light of the whole thing. "The – the dragon magic - it did not tell you _how_ I would manage this feat, did it?" He cursed the hoarse, unsteady note in his voice.

Elfraine looked up, startled, and for a moment her face was a study in confusion. As his silence had stretched out so too had her nerves and by the time he finally spoke, she was feeling utterly miserable. She should have held her peace, she told herself. She'd presumed too much and now she was about to be put in _her_ proper place. Instead, he jested with her. She quickly realised he was trying to put her at ease and she flashed him a smile which was one part gratitude and one part relief. "N-no! It didn't tell me that. I – I don't think the dragon magic would ever be so helpful and besides, that would be doing all your work for you."

Nuada was still feeling shaken and thought his own smile might be strained but Elfraine seemed happy enough with it. She kissed him on the jaw and rested her head on his shoulder once again.

A wave of relief washed through her as he enfolded her in his arms and laid his head on top of hers. It crossed her mind that he showed her far more generosity than she deserved and certainly more than she'd shown him when _he'd_ spoken carelessly. Feeling somewhat ashamed of herself, Elfraine snatched at the first thing that came to mind. "Tell me how it is you know full well what I must have faced in the courts of Europe. What does an _elven_ prince know of such places?"

"You are too sharp by half, Lady," he murmured against her hair. He should have known she'd never miss the inference of that particular statement. Still, he now knew a great deal about _her_ past and he supposed it was only fair she should learn a little about his. To his surprise, he found he had no qualms about sharing it with her but as he leaned back and prepared to tell her about one of his experiences in the courts of human kings, he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that she'd pierced him to the core and laid bare something which no one else - himself included - had ever seen before. And as much as she might want to blame it on the dragon magic, he suspected that her own sparkling brown eyes and sharp, clever mind saw far more than she gave them credit for.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

"Beyond the pale"**: **The Pale (Gaelic - _An Pháil_), or the English Pale (_An Pháil Shasanach_), was a demarcation line in Ireland denoting that part of the country which was under the direct control of the English government in the late Middle Ages. The phrase means 'unacceptable behaviour'.

"All was right with the world once more": an appropriation of a line from Robert Browning's dramatic piece, _Pippa Passes_ (1841).

"Let sleeping dogs lie": To let a matter currently at rest stay at rest. Earliest recorded usage found in Chaucer's _Troylus and Crisedye_ (1374) - 'It is nought good a slepyng hound to wake.'

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart, darling.

'I shall crave your pardon' – Shakespeare, _Macbeth_, Act IV, Scene III.

Queen Elizabeth I was a noted horsewoman, riding long distances and at great speed throughout her life. She expected her ladies-in-waiting to keep up with her.

Bawd House: brothel.

South bank of the [river] Thames: During the Middle Ages this was a place of entertainment which included theatres, prostitution and bear-baiting (a sport which Elizabeth I enjoyed watching.)

Sophism:(modern usage) a specious argument used for deceiving someone.

Semantics: the study of meaning in language.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Have been horribly side-tracked by Photoshop and WMM/Premiere Elements over the last couple of months, and, in the last week or so, by a new story, "The Summer of the Serpents" (Nuada and Wink visit Lindisfarne in AD 793 – if you're a history geek like me you'll probably recognise the place and the date :) First two chapters are posted here on FanFiction.)

Not sure when the video - the second one I've made about a certain elven prince and his sister :D - will be ready to post on You Tube (have run smack up against the limits of my technical know-how – I didn't have very far to run - and am steeling myself for the mind-numbing task of spending yet more time wading through the tech forums :( to resolve what is hopefully the last issue with it.) In the meantime though, I've put some of the stills from the video up on deviantART under my user id there, TheDreamsOfTheAges. Have also posted the link on my profile page here on FanFiction . net if you're interested in taking a look.

Cheers  
>ESSI :)<p> 


	48. Chapter 47

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

**Chapter 47**

Nuada knew exactly what story he was going to tell Elfraine. As he looked down into her upturned face, he thought she might… might what? 'Enjoy' would most certainly not be the word for it; so few of his stories could be called enjoyable and certainly none that involved any human though he thought he might have one or two by the end of the month they'd agreed to.

"Well?" prompted Elfraine as his silence stretched out.

"As it happens, I know a little of your human courts and human kings," he answered. "And I have a tale which I think you'll… _appreciate_."

She shot him a look of surprise; she'd been certain he would brush aside her questions as he mostly had the few times before when they'd touched on his past.

"Your _best-composer-that-ever-lived_ drifts about on the edges of it," he continued.

"Oh!" Elfraine sat bolt upright and twisted round to face him properly. "You – you never said anything about knowing Herr Bach when his name came up earlier." Her voice held a distinct note of accusation.

"I did not." _His_ voice was firm and final.

Elfraine thought it best to take her own advice and leave well enough alone; at least he was going to tell her now. She started to relax against him once more, and wriggled around on his lap to get more comfortable.

Nuada drew in a sharp breath as he grabbed hold of her hips and held her still. "If you keep moving like that, you will have to wait to hear my story," he whispered in her ear.

Oh!" She suddenly became aware of his… growing interest in something other than stories. Her eyes glinted with mischief and she wriggled again for good measure.

With a groan, he leaned in to kiss her but she ducked her head at the last moment and rested it on his shoulder, leaving him to kiss thin air instead.

"Very well then," she said smugly. "As you pointed out before, _you obviously don't need to remind me_; I promise to sit still."

"You will pay for that," Nuada told her, his voice silky.

"I'll look forward to it." She smiled against his chest.

"As will I," he murmured, taking pleasure in the feel of her soft, warm curves pressed up against him. As he held her close, he cast his mind back some three hundred years. "I had cause once to visit a small state - in a vast tract of land which your kind used to call the Holy Roman Empire. It was the principality of Anhalt-Köthen, in the…"

"I know it!" interrupted Elfraine, sitting up excitedly. "I lived there once. It was where _I_ met Bach."

"You promised to sit still," he said, with a pointed look.

"So I did," she admitted. "My apologies, Nuada. Please continue." She sank back against him.

"A small settlement of Fae was eking out an existence on the fringe of the forest near the city. Mr…" He hesitated for the briefest of moments. "Mr Wink and I were passing through."

"Mr Wink? He was the friend you mentioned, was he not? The one who patched up your wounds." She lightly traced one of the harsh, jagged scars on his torso as she spoke.

"Yes. That was him." Nuada looked down at her slender fingers as they moved gently over the mangled flesh. _Memories of a friend's care_, she'd said of his scars earlier… _A dreamer, an idealist_… She certainly had her own way of looking at things. "What else do you see, I wonder?" he murmured as he raised his hand and touched her hair.

"What?" She glanced up sharply.

His arm fell back to her waist. "Mr Wink was indeed the one who sewed me up on occasion. As I was saying, we were passing through the forest near Köthen and came across a small band of Fae – mostly kofewalts but some elves and a troll or two in amongst them. They told of a particularly loathsome human who had been preying upon some of the youngest and most vulnerable of their community. They said he had a great, dark magic at his disposal. It lent him his power and protected him, and none could move against him." Nuada paused and frowned.

"I – I take it _you_ could," said Elfraine.

"As it happens, I never got the chance to find out," he muttered, with a shake of his head. "The matter was… _resolved_ before I could so much as lift my sword."

Elfraine got the impression he was a bit put out about that.

"What might interest you is that in the course of tracking down the vile piece of filth, I encountered your composer," he continued. "I spent some time in the House of Ascania. If I remember rightly, the prince at the time was Leopold…"

Elfraine started at the name. "Oh! I…" Recalling her promise, she stopped abruptly. Though it cost her some effort, she held her tongue and sat still as she waited for Nuada to continue.

"Knew him too," he finished dryly.

"Well, not so much knew him as played at his court on a number of occasions. I was one of the musicians in the Hofkapelle," she explained. "For a little while at least. Circumstances that spring forced me to move on a bit sooner than I normally would have. I…"

Nuada cleared his throat and Elfraine stopped, a sudden tinge of colour kissing her cheeks. "But this is your story, not mine. Please, go on."

He opened his mouth to speak but didn't get very far.

"Bach wasn't Leopold's Kapellmeister for very long." The words were out before she could stop them. "Five or six years at most, I think. If you ran into him there that means you and I must have missed each other by only a few years," she mused. "Possibly less than that."

The thought gave Nuada pause. That their lives had so nearly intersected all those years ago seemed a strange coincidence indeed. And too, there was her friendship with Dihyā a century earlier.

Elfraine's next words echoed his line of thinking. "'_There are more things in heaven and earth'_", she murmured.

"So it would seem," he replied.

"Well, good Will always did have the right of it." It was obvious she considered the coincidence explained now. "'Tis simply more proof of his genius, not that any more will ever be needed." She gave Nuada a look which just dared him to contradict her.

He knew better than to even try. "In any event," he enunciated, "I spent three days and two nights in Leopold's court and met Herr Bach once. I sat through two evenings' performances of his works and that, I suppose, is my story."

"What?" she exclaimed. "That's no story! That's simply a few words - words which I padded out for you, I might add. What music did the orchestra play? How was their performance? What did you think of the music? Who was in court then? What scandals were brewing? How did…"

Nuada clamped a hand over her mouth. "A few pieces from something your composer was thinking of calling The Brandenburg Concertos. Competent enough… for humans. Tolerable. I have no idea. I pay no heed to gossip, and most certainly not to human gossip... "Does _that_ make for a better story?" He cautiously removed his hand and was immediately captivated; she looked positively grumpy and completely adorable with it, and he was sorely tempted to kiss away her frown.

"I suppose it'll have to," she grumbled. "Tolerable! You found the Brandenburg Concertos merely 'tolerable'!" She muttered something about elves and philistines under her breath, and lapsed into disappointed silence.

Nuada felt a twinge of guilt. "I am sorry, Elfraine. I was never much of a story-teller and what tales I have are neither entertaining nor enlightening. Most don't bear repeating."

Elfraine was immediately contrite. "Oh, Nuada! I'm the one who's sorry. I'd conjure up better memories for you if I could." She hugged him as she spoke.

It was a generous thought and it seemed only fair to give her something in return. "Now that I cast my mind back, I do seem to recall being… somewhat surprised by the music."

She looked up and caught his gaze. "I take it 'somewhat surprised' is meant to be a step up from 'tolerable'." Her lips twitched.

"You may take it howsoever you wish," he said gallantly.

She pouted at his words though there was laughter in her eyes now. "So, I'll put _my_ meaning on it and you'll continue with _yours_."

"And both of us will be happy enough with that solution," he said. The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile which set Elfraine's heart tripping but before she could reach up and kiss him, he spoke again. "I do have something more for you as it happens. I remember now that the second nights' entertainment was a vast improvement on the first. One of the violinists gave a particularly spirited performance - much more so than on the previous night - and I enjoyed his playing far more than I'd expected to. Technically, he was not especially outstanding though he did well enough in his efforts. What lifted his performance that evening was the energy and life he put into it. The music was joyous and light in his hands, and he captured the attention of the entire court. He surprised me." Nuada shook his head slowly. "Though I no longer remember much of _him_, I do remember that." He did, in fact, remember a little bit more about the youth but it was not something he was going to tell Elfraine; to do so would be to turn their talk towards the darker side of the whole episode, and the less said about that the better.

"Ah, there!" she exclaimed, with satisfaction. "That's more like a story; it's all in the detail. You've done well enough in your own efforts just now."

He gave a self-deprecatory smile. "I must admit, at the time the only details I was concerned with were those involving the man I sought. I wanted to learn all I could of Ambrosio before I..." He stopped abruptly as Elfraine drew a sharp breath and tensed in his arms.

She turned to look at him. "Ambrosio?"

"Yes, he was the one I sought." A frown creased his brow; he thought she seemed a little agitated.

Oh, Nuada… I – I…" She shook her head and looked away.

He gave a grim smile, recognising the pattern. "You knew him too."

Her eyes cut back to his. "Knew him! I _killed_ him!"

There was a moment of stunned silence and then Nuada recovered his voice. "You! _You_ were the one who…" He stopped and took a deep breath. "You were the one who _resolved_ the matter."

"I would have resolved every atom in his body, one at a time, if I could have. Instead, I could only kill him the once." A sudden thought struck her and she gave Nuada a horrified look. "Oh! Those of your people whom he harmed – I – I know what he did to them. I've no doubt it was the same thing he did to the young son of the woman I lodged with in Köthen. That was why I couldn't stand to see him draw breath any longer. Oh, Nuada. I am sorry… sorry for any child who was ever unlucky enough to catch his vile eye."

"As am I," he murmured. "You made him suffer, at least." It was a statement, not a question.

"How – how would you know?" she asked, slightly bewildered.

"On the third morning of my stay, I learned from one of the servants that he'd left the castle. I saw my chance to find out something more about him and perhaps finish the thing then and there. I tracked him down to the far side of the woods, where I discovered his body." He reached up and gently touched her cheek. "You made exactly such work of him as I'd have done."

Elfraine looked uncomfortable. "I – I rather forgot myself," she admitted, ducking her head.

He arched a brow at her. "You've no need for guilt, Lady. He deserved every cut you gave him."

"Be that as it may, I let my feelings get the better of me. I'd thought to be… _impartial_, I suppose… but passion ruled the day instead." She grimaced. "Once I got started, I could see naught before me but Gretheved."

Nuada suddenly understood the savagery of the attack.

"Though Gretheved's crimes against Fortune were different in the detail, there was no doubt in my mind that Ambrosio was exactly the same sort of man as he'd been… or rather, as he is." Her smile was mirthless. "I only hope I made a better job of Ambrosio than I did of Gretheved."

Nuada frowned; it was a valid point. He never did discover how the disgusting piece of filth had come to be protected by magic or what he was capable of, and without that knowledge, nothing could be certain. He didn't say so to Elfraine though. "It seemed to me at the time that you did well enough. And he is not worth fretting over; you did what was right so clear your brow, Lady."

"Why, thank you Nuada. You do put my mind at rest." There was only the slightest hint of irony in her voice. "Strange to think that we brushed past each other in such a way all those years ago," she reflected. "I – I don't remember seeing you at all in court. I daresay you were disguised - glamoured."

"I was," he confirmed. "I, on the other hand, can now attest to having seen _you_ at least twice."

"Oh!" She was a little surprised. "You obviously have a very good memory. What were the two occasions?"

"I now know it was _you_ I saw departing the scene of that foul creature's… execution. I caught a glimpse of your back as you fled," he answered.

"'Fled!' I don't know that I like the sound of that." She pursed her lips. "Still, it was true enough I suppose. I didn't want to get caught. That would have been a nuisance, what with the inevitable hanging and so forth."

He snorted. "I did think of giving chase but you'd helped yourself to his mount and I only had a cavalry horse from the prince's stables - one more suited to heavy cavalry, more's the pity. I doubt I would have caught up to you."

"No, you wouldn't have," agreed Elfraine, thinking of the fleet, purebred Arabian stallion she'd commandeered. "That horse carried the dragons and I a good many miles distant and made good time whilst he was at it. And as the icing on the cake, he fetched a handsome sum when I sold him a week or two later."

"A most noble steed then," observed Nuada dryly. "In any event, my work had been done for me and there was little point in trying to catch up with you. Your business was none of mine." He paused as he thought of something. "There is one question you can answer now though, if you're able to."

"Yes?" She looked at him enquiringly.

"How did you manage to kill the man if he was protected by magic? Did you actually see any evidence of magic about him?" he added.

"There's nothing very difficult in those questions," she replied grimly. "He thought we were trysting and as he was fumbling with his breeches, I stabbed him. He was obviously not giving any thought to his protection at that moment, and no - I saw no evidence of any…" She stopped suddenly and furrowed her brow.

"What?" asked Nuada, his tone sharp.

"Well, after that first blow, he looked surprised – naturally enough – and then he reached for a chain around his neck. I remember being surprised myself; I'd been expecting him to go for his sword, which was on the ground nearby, or to at least try and strike back at me but he did neither. He pulled out an amulet from beneath his shirt instead. I lashed out with my dagger, caught the chain on the tip of the blade and wrenched the thing from his neck. It went flying through the air and he made a grab for it but I kneed him in the balls, dealt him several more blows with the knife and finally brought him to the ground after a brief struggle… and from then on in it was basically a matter of – of finishing the job." She gave Nuada an uneasy look. "I picked up the amulet afterwards and tucked it into the saddlebags. I – I thought I might get a bit of money for it as well. The thing is…" Her voice trailed off.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"Well, the thing is, the amulet was black and now that I think about it, it looked very much like the ring on Gretheved's finger." She frowned again. "I think Ambrosio might have had some magic about him after all."

"What did you do with the amulet?" Nuada asked eagerly. If she'd kept it…

Elfraine looked shame-faced. "I must confess I was so delighted with the price I got for the horse, I completely forgot about the amulet until just now. It never came out of the saddlebags again, at least not whilst it was in my possession, and the saddlebags – along with the rest of the tack - went with the horse."

"Damn!" he swore softly. "I _knew_ I should have given chase."

"Hindsight's a marvellous thing, Nuada. Unfortunately, there's not a lot we can do about it now," she said, her natural pragmatism drawing a line under the matter. "Um, you said you noticed me on _two_ occasions that spring. When was the other one?"

With an effort, he turned his thoughts from the long-lost opportunity and answered her question. "I recognised you from your _fleeing_ back as the violinist who'd had the court in raptures only the night beforehand."

"Oh! That was _me_!" She thought about it for a second. "Of course it was!" She was pleasantly surprised and basked in the sunshine of his earlier comments for a moment, remembering that the general tone had been most complimentary. And then she remembered a few of the specifics: _not especially outstanding, technically_; did _well enough_ in his – _her_ - efforts; _surprised_ him that second night; competent enough… _for a human_. Her smile quickly became a scowl. "You damn me with faint praise," she muttered.

"Forgive me, Lady," he said, holding back a smile of his own. "Had I known a few moments ago what I know now, I would have been more fulsome in my praise."

"But less honest," she admitted ruefully. "I surprised even myself that evening though I did set out with the intention of making an impression on everyone in general and someone in particular."

"Oh?" He arched an enquiring brow.

"Ambrosio," she said succinctly. "He… he'd hurt my landlady's son only the day before and I was determined he would pay for his crime. I'd heard whispers about his… inclinations and from the rumours, knew that Alfred Somerset would be too old for his tastes. However, I hoped to make such an impression as to fire his lust anyway and tempt him to – try something a little different. Contrary to my usual practice, I was out to draw attention to myself that night and lifted my performance accordingly. It worked better than I'd thought it would." She gave Nuada a cynical smile. "He waylaid me in the corridors later on, determined to have his way with me then and there, but I fed him some tripe about not wanting my current lover to find out – I hinted that he was a man of great power and influence - and he swallowed it hook, line and sinker. We made an assignment to meet in the forest early the next morning, and you discovered the… result of that meeting not long afterwards."

"You took a great risk with that plan," Nuada said, a note of censure in his voice.

Elfraine gave a small laugh. "I took no risk at all, as you must surely know by now."

"Still, without being aware of the true nature of what you faced…" He frowned as he looked down at her slender frame. "It cannot have been easy gaining the upper hand even despite your advantage. He was far larger than you and far more solidly built."

Elfraine rolled her eyes. "Yes, but as I've pointed out before – I can outlast anyone and anything. And by that time, I'd learnt to use the dragon magic to help things along a bit."

Nuada gave her a questioning look.

"You know, lend my will to it and push through … not just be subject to the whim of the magic." Her assurances didn't' seem to find much favour with him; his frown only grew more marked. Elfraine rushed on. "Anyway, I did the thing, collected the dragons from my landlady's house and left Köthen that very day, having been there for not much more than a couple of months." She shot Nuada a considering look. "I take it the blame _was_ laid at my door and suspicion didn't fall on some other poor soul."

"I don't know, Elfraine." He made an effort to put aside the troubling image of her struggling with the loathsome creature he'd been hunting. "I no longer had any reason to stay in the area and left that very day too, after collecting Mr Wink from the forest. Given that you and I both disappeared on the same day, I'm sure they did their sums when they found the body and came up with a suitably salacious answer."

"No doubt!" She took grim comfort from the thought. Glancing up at him, she continued speaking. "And so you never realised you'd met me before… until just now? I find that hard to believe especially as you obviously saw me at close quarters during the evening performances, and specifically remarked me during the second one." She stopped for a moment and gave a wry smile as she thought about what she'd just said. "I suppose you had no reason to remember me though. God knows most of the people I ever met in passing are nothing more than faceless shadows now." She bit her lip as she pondered that. "I don't know about your kind but it seems to be a failing of mine that we like to think ourselves vastly more important and more memorable than we really are."

There was plenty he could have added to that but Nuada let her last comment slip by. "As you say, I had no reason to remember you - or rather, your disguised self - until now… and you have obviously still not yet found a reason to remember me from those days." He stared at her for a moment, trying without success to recall something more of the youth she'd passed herself off as; it had been so long ago and so much had happened in between that all he was left with was a hazy impression. "I have to admit, I still don't recognise you specifically. I am only guided by what we've pieced together." His brows creased together and then suddenly, a spark of understanding lit his eyes and his puzzlement vanished. "I seem to recall, though, powdered hair and I am fairly certain you were thoroughly plastered in that muck you all used to put on your faces. I wouldn't have recognised Nuala in such a guise!"

For a moment, Elfraine was lost and then understanding dawned on her as well. "Oh! The ceruse!" She wrinkled her nose. "You're right – it _was_ muck but it was very useful muck to me and I plastered it on more thickly than most. It came in handy to disguise the fact that I didn't age, and I could generally squeeze a few more years out of whatever place I'd settled in before having to move on."

"Most useful then," he said, sardonically. "I take it you were not worried about the risks."

"Not at all," she replied. "The dragon magic saw to that. The minute the lead started to poison me and eat away at my face or my hair began to fall out, it healed me."

"Ah, of course – the dragon magic." He leaned down and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "There were times during those three days when I must have been only feet away from you. I could have stretched out my hand and touched you." He reached up and gently traced the planes of her face, his manner sober now. "You would have made the hours pass more easily."

She leaned into his hand and looked back at him, her eyes wistful. "I wish we _had_ known each other then. We could have had perhaps three hundred more years together. Now it must all be done in one month."

"It doesn't have to be only one month, _mhuirnín_," he said quietly. He knew he risked stirring up the embers of their previous conversation – the one where they'd supposedly laid to rest the matter of love without actually mentioning that word, to his infinite relief - but he couldn't help himself.

She hesitated for a moment and he saw a brief flicker of indecision in her eyes but then it vanished. "Yes it does, Nuada. That's all I can give." She sounded sad.

But she was right, he knew; he had his own path to follow, and she had hers. He gathered her close and hugged her as he rested his chin on her head.

She lay against him and breathed in the scent of him, storing up memories to last… She stopped abruptly; they would not be memories to last until the end of time. Indeed, they might not even last until the end of the year. Pulling back, she rested her hands on his chest and looked up at him as she made an effort to set aside the distressing thought. "You - you haven't yet told me who _you_ were in Leopold's court and I still can't place you." A whisper brushed through her mind and caught briefly on the edges as she spoke but it vanished as quickly as it had come. She frowned and shook her head.

"I did not think I looked so very different," he said. "Owing to the predilection for that vile muck, it was not necessary to change my appearance by all that much."

She still looked puzzled.

"I will show you." He leaned forward and Elfraine scooted off his lap to sit beside him. He stood up and pulled the sheet off the bed then draped it around his shoulders.

She couldn't resist the opportunity. "You look in no ways familiar Nuada. I don't recall there being any Romans in Leopold's court." She ducked her head to hide a smile.

"I did not wear a _toga_, Lady," he said with a hint of exasperation. He took a few steps back from the bed. "This is only something from which to fashion the clothes I _did_ appear in."

"Oh!" She looked up again… and froze at the sight of him as memory came back in a rush. She was vaguely aware that her mouth was hanging open but she was incapable of closing it. She knew immediately who he'd been and couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before now. He looked every bit as magnificent as he had then and Elfraine took her time admiring the sight. Her gaze travelled slowly up the length of him, from his black, knee-high leather riding boots to his tight-fitting black satin breeches – her eyes lingered a while on those, admiring how they moulded his hips and thighs, and everything else in between – to his gold-embroidered silver waistcoat and snow-white linen shirt which was loosely laced at the throat, revealing a tantalising glimpse of his chest.

And his coat! Oh, that coat. She'd liked it then and she liked it now. The cut was simple - severe even - but the garment was utterly superb and it suited him to perfection. Polished silver silk sat snugly across his broad shoulders, with the fall of the three-quarter coat closely skimming the hard, muscular lines of his body. The skirt flared out slightly at the hips, emphasising his waist, and ended a few inches below the tops of his buffed leather boots. A thick border of ornately-patterned foliage, embroidered in glittering gold thread, graced the cuffs, hem and edges of the coat whilst the tiny, cast-gold, diamond-tipped rosette buttons running down its length sparkled and winked amongst the aurelian leaves.

On his head sat a black, felt tricorn hat trimmed with gold and silver lace and black rooster feathers, and strapped to his side, beneath his coat, was a gleaming silver dress-sword. His hair - a darker shade of blonde and several inches shorter - was clubbed behind his neck with a black ribbon. The proud, aristocratic lines of his face were unmistakably his but the markings on his cheeks, nose, forehead and temples had vanished, and the eyes that stared back at her were ice-blue, not flame-gold. His dark lips had turned blood-red and his pale skin was now ceruse-white, giving him an almost mask-like appearance. It was Nuada and yet it was not him.

"Well?" he asked in a cool tone. "Do you know me now?" He stretched out one arm and brushed an imaginary piece of lint off the sleeve of his coat, every inch the bored aristocrat.

"Oh, yes!" replied Elfraine, on a breathy sigh. "The Cossack!" She thought she might swoon.

Nuada's head went up. "Cossack? What have Cossacks to do with anything?" She obviously_ still_ hadn't recognised him, he thought with a touch of uncharacteristic pique. "I styled myself Sviatoslav Constantine Galitskii, a Russian prince from…"

"I have no idea what you styled yourself, Nuada," Elfraine interrupted, as she scrambled off the bed and stood in front of him. "All I know is that _every_ woman in the castle called you 'The Cossack' and _every_ one of them wanted to go _riding_ with you."

He was taken aback for a moment; he'd forgotten about that. It was then that he noticed the lusty gleam in _her_ eyes. "Including you, I take it." His lips curved in a slow smile.

"Including me," she admitted as laughter bubbled up. But it suddenly died on her lips and she became unexpectedly sober. "You - you were the first person I'd been attracted to in a long time. Not since..." Her voice trailed off.

Nuada knew she was referring to her third husband. He smoothed out his expression and simply stood there, saying nothing as he waited for her to continue in her own good time.

With a determined shake of her head, Elfraine dismissed the unwelcome thought and attempted a smile; she was _not_ going to let Gretheved cast any more of a shadow over the night than he already had. She started to circle Nuada, looking him up and down, and as she did so, her heart grew lighter again. "God's Blood! If you knew the _excitement_ you caused amongst the ladies - and one or two of the gentlemen too – and all on your first day there! You were the only thing they could talk about below stairs as well," she added.

A frown settled on Nuada's face as he remembered exactly how much excitement his arrival had caused. The unlooked for attention had cost him no end of trouble and had interfered with his attempts to find out more about Ambrosio.

"Of course, after your first night you also caused great disappointment," Elfraine continued, "seeing as you didn't actually bed any of the ladies. But those one or two gentlemen were quick to see the silver lining of that particular cloud and got their – ah - _hopes_ up… amongst other things." She gave him a wicked look and skipped nimbly out of reach as he swatted at her bare backside.

His eyes narrowed and remained firmly fixed on her elusive and shapely derrière whilst she darted around to the other side of the bed; she was mistaken if she thought she'd be safe there. She turned to face him and he gave her a look which promised retribution. He was gratified to see her quickly bite back whatever teasing words she'd been about to utter next.

"You obviously remember me so I can dispense with this foppery now," he said as he looked down at himself.

She started forward, reaching out towards him. "Oh no! Not the coat!"

His head snapped up. "What?"

She dropped her hand back to her side. "Not – not the coat," she mumbled, hanging her head and gazing at her feet. "Or the breeches," she added quickly as she slanted him a look from behind a stray curl. "At least, not just yet."

It took him a moment to digest that. "I see," he finally said, raising his brow. "Do you have any other instructions, my Lady?"

Elfraine's eyes lit up.

"I thought you might," he murmured as he prepared to… humour her.

"The shirt can go – it spoils the view."

And just like that, it was gone.

"Same with the hat and the sword."

They went the way of the shirt.

"I haven't decided on the boots yet – I'll let you know." She walked around the bed and stood in front of him once more. Standing on tiptoe and pressing herself against him, she reached up over his shoulder and behind, and tugged on the black ribbon holding back his hair. "We'll get rid of this too."

It vanished into thin air and his hair spilled out over his shoulders.

"And I'd prefer your own face and hair as well, if you please Nuada."

He was himself again in an instant. "Have you made up your mind about the boots yet, Lady?" He smiled as he watched her furrow her brow and give the question her undivided attention; she had that adorable look on her face again.

"They can stay," she answered after a minute. She stepped back and inspected him. "Perfect," she whispered, her eyes glowing with a soft light.

That single word – the way she said it and the expression on her face as she said it - almost felled him. All of a sudden, he was looking at himself through the prism of her eyes and though what he saw was fractured and unfamiliar, he found himself wanting it to be true. "It – it is merely an illusion, Elfraine" he said in his confusion.

She tilted her head in silent question.

"The - the coat," he answered, quickly grabbing onto the obvious explanation. "It's an illusion… its _perfection_ is an illusion."

"I know, Nuada. But what lies inside it - and what lies still further within - is real enough… and perfect enough." Her cheeks flushed and she ducked her head; she was wearing her heart on her sleeve again, she knew, but she couldn't help herself.

Her words set off a bone-deep ache within Nuada and suddenly, he couldn't get close enough to her. His arm shot out and he grabbed her around the waist, almost lifting her off her feet as he pulled her up hard against his chest. His hand slid down, fingers splaying out over her backside to anchor her firmly in the cradle of his thighs, and he lashed his other arm around her back and shoulders and crushed her to him. And as he stared down into her upturned face Nuada realised there wasn't a single thing about her he'd change... for he had the feeling that if he altered so much as one hair on her head, she wouldn't be standing in his arms now telling him he was perfect and looking at him with love in her eyes.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

The Holy Roman Empire: (962 – 1806 AD)a multi-ethnic and complex union of territories in Central Europe. Languages spoken included Latin, German, Italian, Czech, Dutch, Frisian, French, Slovene, Sorbian, and Polish.

Kofewalt: (German – variant of _kobold_) Sprite or house spirit, most commonly depicted as humanlike creatures who are the size of small children.

Hofkapelle: (German) court orchestra.

'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy' – Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, Act I, Scene V.

The Brandenburg Concertos: (Johann Sebastian Bach, BWV 1046-1051) a collection of six instrumental works presented by Bach to the Margrave of Brandenburg-Schwedt in 1721. They are thought to have been composed at an earlier date, and are held to be some of the finest musical compositions of the Baroque era.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

Ambrosio: name taken from Matthew Gregory Lewis's Gothic novel, "The Monk: A Romance" (1796).

'Damn with faint praise': English idiom, first published by Alexander Pope in "Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot" (1734).

Ceruse: a lead pigment, used in cosmetics as a skin whitener during the late Renaissance and Early Modern Era. It caused lead poisoning, damaging the skin and resulting in hair loss, and if used over a longer period of time, could cause death. Elizabeth I used it and despite the known dangers, it was still popular during the 18th century.

Nuada's coat is modelled on the Coronation coat of Peter II of Russia (1728).


	49. Chapter 48

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

**A/N: **Many thanks to CrazyNorwegian for another beautiful portrait of Elfraine :) You can find it on her deviantART account and I've posted the link on my profile page here at Fanfiction. net. She's done an amazing drawing of Nuada too, which you can also see on her deviantArt account.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI :)

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 48**

Nuada went still, stunned by just how much he wanted her words, wanted that look she was giving him, and suddenly, he didn't know himself at all. He felt like a stranger in his own skin, a callow youth rather than the warrior who'd walked this earth for four thousand years, and he struggled to assert his will against the look in her eyes. But then Elfraine reached up and pulled his head down to hers and the aching need within him surged up, sweeping aside everything but the taste of her lips and the warmth of her in his arms. She was light, she was joy, and she was _his_. An answering warmth unfurled in his chest and his heart soared. Lifting her off her feet, he took two swift strides and tumbled her onto the bed. And as he pressed her into the mattress, he realised he wanted far more from her than just her company for a month; he wanted everything she had to offer, including her…

He stopped cold, aghast at his thoughts and horrified by his feelings. All he could do was stare at Elfraine, his gaze uncomprehending. How had he arrived at this point? He struggled to make sense of it but as he looked down into her luminous brown eyes – eyes glowing with love… for _him - _the dread feeling began to grow that it had been inevitable all along.

A great weight settled on his heart and he silently cursed all the Fates for setting him on this path. He suddenly found himself unable to meet her eyes and quickly averted his own, damning himself for a coward twice over as he did so. Though he wanted everything from her, he could not for the life of him offer her anything like it in return. To do so would be to go against every belief he held, against everything he knew to be true, and would brand him a traitor to his people and to his cause. Aeglin only knew, he skated perilously close to that already by having her as a lover! To offer her anything more would only make the death of his father – his _killing_ of his father – pointless, and would render meaningless every other sacrifice he'd made in the last two thousand years – every sacrifice _others_ had made. The loss of family and home, of his beloved sister's affection; a life of wandering exile, far from the land of his birth; seeing friends give their lives in the service of their cause… Wink's face loomed large as he thought about that; the loss of a son he hadn't even known existed until now - for his pursuit of his cause was the reason he'd left Dihyā's side all those years ago; and her loss, too… it would all be for nothing. He couldn't – _wouldn't_ – diminish the value of any of those sacrifices and dishonour the dead or break his promise to the living by handing his heart over to a human no matter that she was everything he'd ever wanted. And she was, he realised, as he forced himself to meet her gaze. She'd called him perfect; she had only to look in a mirror to see what perfection truly was.

Elfraine's stomach sank as she looked up into his eyes; they were full of shadows once more. She'd done it again, and she wished her foolish heart and careless tongue to perdition. But there was no getting rid of them. She didn't want to waste any more time in this ridiculous dance they seemed to be doing around each other; it had to end. She took a deep breath and pushed at his chest.

Nuada was a little surprised but he immediately rolled off her and sat up. He wasn't quite sure what to say or think.

She levered herself into a sitting position and scooted back, putting some distance between them. "Let's have done with this once and for all, Nuada."

He was gripped by the sudden, irrational fear that she was about to tell him their agreement was off. Though he'd told her earlier he would not release her from it, he realised now he wouldn't hold her to it if she changed her mind even though he suspected it might rip a hole in his chest to watch her walk away from him. But then she was going to walk away anyway… if not now, then most certainly in a month's time. "What – what do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"I know you don't want to hear what I'm about to say."

The fear settled in his gut like a stone.

"But it has to be said and I promise I will only say it this one time." She glanced away and bit her lip.

He made a conscious effort to breathe.

Her eyes swung back to his. "If we are to spend a month together…"

His fear eased up a little.

"I don't want us to be tiptoeing around each other, watching our words and feeling uneasy in each other's company." She paused.

Nuada inclined his head warily as the fear released its hold a fraction more.

"That being the case, we need to put this thing to rest now, and not let it spoil what little time we have together. Give it an airing, as it were, and then put it away." She smiled mirthlessly and looked down at her hands. "Though perhaps it's more apt to liken it to lancing a boil – one quick, clean cut and then the poison can drain out."

A different sort of dread suddenly started to wind its way through his gut.

Elfraine took another deep breath and met his gaze again as she prepared to sacrifice her one faint sliver of hope along with the last remnants of her pride. She spoke quickly, wanting to get the words out before she lost her nerve. "_I love you_." And just like that, it was done.

For a brief second, Nuada's flame-gold eyes flared with heat, and then his face was wiped clean of all expression. It was what he'd been fearing – dreading - and yet as the words fell from her lips he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and love her back. But he couldn't – wouldn't - do that and so like a miser, he hoarded them to his heart instead and like a coward, he said nothing… did nothing.

Elfraine had thought she knew what to expect from him; indeed, she'd been prepared for his discomfort and his denial but she was disconcerted now to find herself faced with... _nothing_. In the silence of the room, as Nuada sat there staring back at her, his eyes shuttered and his expression unreadable, she could no longer hold his gaze. She felt like Eve in the Garden, naked and ashamed, and she hung her head… and promptly froze. _God's Blood!_ She _was_ naked! She'd forgotten that. Suddenly, she was embarrassed by her state of undress. She snatched at one of the bedcovers and held it up under her chin. It only made matters worse; her cheeks flamed red as she caught a glimpse of what looked like pity in his eyes and felt the sudden sting of tears in her own.

Nuada couldn't stand to see her like that, miserable and distressed. He ached to wrap his arms around her and tell her she had no cause to feel that way; instead, he kept them firmly planted at his side. But as the tears gathered in her eyes, he found it impossible to keep his distance and he instinctively reached out to cover her hand with his. "You've no need to hide yourself from me Elfraine…" He gently pulled the quilt from her nerveless fingers. "And – and you are right. It is better to have such a thing out in the open; I don't want there to be any uneasiness between us either. I – I thank you for your courage and your honesty, Lady." Though he meant every word, they sounded somehow hollow to his ears; she didn't know it – would never know it - but she'd just been added to his list of sacrifices and he was ashamed that his own courage and honesty were so wanting in the face of hers.

Elfraine could take no comfort from his words; his – his _kindness_ was unbearable. With tears spiking her lashes now, she reached out to retrieve the cover from his grasp. Her hand accidentally brushed against his and she quickly snatched it back.

A swift stab of pain pierced his chest, taking him by surprise, and Nuada struggled to find something to say which would set things right between them once more. "We – we are lovers Elfraine. You can touch me whenever you want to and in whatever way you want to." He held the quilt out to her and quickly dropped the rest of his glamour. Coat, breeches and boots were gone in an instant and the sheet from which they'd been fashioned fell back to the bed; he was as naked as she was. "Please don't… don't pull away from me." It was a poor, miserly offering, he knew, especially compared to what she offered him, but it was as much as he could give her. And to his surprise, it seemed to be enough. He gave thanks to all the ancient Gods when, after a tense moment, she wiped her eyes and then reached out to take the bedcover from his hands.

"I – I could never do that, Nuada," she said, laying the quilt to one side. "Forgive me. I was the one who raised the whole thing in the first place." She tried to smile but her expression fell woefully short of the mark. "I – I don't know what made me think it would be a good idea."

It was an idea he would treasure for the rest of his life. "Your… your reasoning was sound." He winced inwardly at the banality of his words but there was nothing else he _could_ say. _Liar_, his heart railed.

"I – I." She stopped and collected her thoughts. He was at least willing to listen and she suddenly felt the need to explain herself a bit more. "There's so much I want to do with you in our month and I don't want to waste a minute of it on hurt feelings or regrets. There'll be time enough for those afterwards." She rushed on, wanting to put the awkwardness behind them. "I'd like to - to take you out on _Fortune's Chance_… if you're agreeable," she added, almost shyly. "I promise not to push you overboard, not unless you provoke me." She attempted another smile, with only slightly better results. "I – I want to show you something I love." _Something else I love_. She dropped her eyes briefly, self-consciousness returning in full force. Looking up again, she made herself continue. "Something you've never seen before - the- the vast expanse of an endless ocean.… I seem to remember you saying you'd never been to sea."

_Fortune's Chance. _It was her boat. Once again, her words surprised him. "I – I have not," he said, more than willing to join in her effort and get them past this. "Whenever I have needed to travel across vast bodies of water, I have always used the paths of magic. I would like to see the ocean with you… thank you."

"Well, let's just wait and see how good a sailor you are before you go thanking me," she replied, her smile more genuine now and containing more than a hint of relief. She was beginning to think they might be over the worst of it. "You may well end up spending the whole time with your head hanging over the rail and cursing me to Hell and back."

He looked puzzled.

"Seasickness," she said succinctly.

"Oh!" He suspected she was teasing him, _hoped_ she was teasing him; it would mean things were back to … _normal_, he supposed. "I do not think _I_ will be affected by that," he stated confidently.

"We shall see." She gave him a knowing look.

"There will be nothing to see," he asserted. His words only seemed to amuse her.

"Very well, then. I'm sure you know best."

The tone of her voice told Nuada she thought no such thing but he wasn't about to argue the point. She was smiling again and that was all that mattered. He swung his legs up onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard, a lazy half-smile playing about his own lips as he held his arms out to her. "Come here, _mhuirnín_. Sickness or no, I'll be glad to go with you." And although he didn't say so, he was glad she'd let him off so lightly; her earlier embarrassment and misery had been almost more than he could bear.

Elfraine, for her part, was relieved the awkwardness between them had been laid to rest once and for all, and she went willingly into his outstretched arms. He hadn't returned her words – and though she might have hoped he would, she hadn't expected him to – but he'd at least accepted how she felt. And if she happened to look at him every now and then with love in her eyes, she no longer had to worry about making excuses for it or trying to explain it away.

"Tell me what else you have planned for me," Nuada murmured into her hair as she settled back against him. He felt an almost overwhelming sense of relief to have her back in his arms. _Where she belongs_, whispered his traitorous heart. He closed his eyes against the thought.

"Ah, well! It's not a very big list," Elfraine said.

He gave her his full attention.

"It hasn't really been a day for thinking, has it, and I suppose there's only so much you can do in a month." She made a concentrated effort not to let that thought drag her back down. "I do have a few ideas though." She sat up and turned to face him properly.

"You can't sit still, can you," he murmured. Her every word, every movement, every look suddenly fascinated him.

"What?" She grew warm under the intensity of his regard.

"Never mind, _mhuirnín_" he replied, with a brief shake of his head. "Tell me what is on your list so far then." _Tell me why you love me_, his heart insisted. He bit back the words. Clasping his hands behind his head, he settled back to listen to the sound of her voice as she spoke, and watch all the expressions on her face - the sparkle in her eyes, the curve of her lips, the way she moved - as she laid out her plans before him.

Elfraine found herself likewise entranced. Her eyes were caught by the play of muscles across his chest and shoulders as he leaned back, and by the way his biceps flexed as he lifted his arms. And that look in his eyes… she could feel the heat of it all the way through to the core of her being. It was her turn to shake her head; she was only seeing what she wanted to see, she reminded herself sternly.

"Your list?" Nuada prompted when she didn't reply. He thought if she didn't hurry up and tell him she'd lose her chance because if she continued to look at him like that, he'd have her on her back in next to no time. _And then you can love her in all the ways you want to_, his heart urged. He did his best to ignore it.

She almost ended up there anyway when she ducked her head and snuggled back in against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. The feel of her warm lips pressed to the hollow at the base of his neck was impossible to ignore. He got as far as enfolding her in his own arms when she started talking.

"Have you ever been to Antarctica?"

He swallowed a groan and concentrated on answering her question. "_An Talamh Reoite_? No. I have never had reason to go there but I have recently been to the island you call Greenland." He frowned as he thought of the stark, frigid landscape where he'd first encountered the hounds and shadow beasts with Anung Un Rama and the rest of the Bureau's team… not that the rest of the team had been of any use against the dark creatures. He quickly corrected himself; the demon's fiery mate, Liz Sherman, had proved herself useful. It was hard to believe that had all happened only a se'n night ago. He looked down at Elfraine; it was _impossible_ to believe he'd hated _her_ then and had been set on destroying her. If he had succeeded… He cleared his throat. "I - I imagine they are quite similar places."

"Only insofar as they're both cold but you'll get the opportunity to judge that for yourself." She smiled up at him. "Miles Cross is also on the list. You'll need to go there anyway, what with it being home to your people for the moment, but I'd like to be the one to show you around."

"I would not want it to be anyone else," he said. For the space of a few breaths, he actually looked forward to seeing the home which had meant so much to her over the years - the home she'd been so generous as to open up to him and his people - and then the guilt hit him, almost knocking the breath out of him. He'd rather have been dealt a blow by a troll's war hammer. She'd held out a lifeline to the Fae from the Troll Market and had asked for nothing in return, and she'd given _him_ her heart, again, on the expectation of nothing in return. She'd shown courage, honesty and generosity, and his own shortcomings loomed large once more. Honour dictated that he follow her example and the urgings of his heart joined the chorus.

But as he wavered in his earlier determination to tell her nothing of his feelings, the faces of the dead rose up before him - all those who'd gone ahead of him - and he remembered them as they'd been in life: passionate, committed and prepared to make any sacrifice for their people and their cause. Nuada knew what he owed them - what he owed to their memories - and he knew he could do no less than follow _their_ example. And too, there were the living; he would be their king and he owed them everything. He looked down at Elfraine and wished with all his heart that things could be different. People spoke of choosing between two evils; it was far worse when it was honour on the scales… and love could carry no weight.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

The Fates: (Greek _Moirai_, Slavic _Sudice_) the incarnations of Destiny, they made sure the fate assigned to every being unfolded according its pre-ordained course.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

Se'n night: archaic term for a week or seven nights.

An Talamh Reoite: (Irish Gaelic) The Frozen Land.


	50. Chapter 49

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p>.<p>

**Chapter 49**

Elfraine had called him an idealist. She was wrong; Nuada was suddenly certain of it. Had she been right, he would not be putting duty ahead of love. And too, he realised, it was not as if the lesson was new to him; it was one he'd learnt a long time ago. He couldn't help but think of his father and sister. His love for them had carried no weight in the end though the Gods only knew it weighed heavily enough on him now. No, he was a clear-headed realist and she was entirely mistaken to think him otherwise.

A small frown creased Elfraine's brow as she stared up at him. He'd seemed happy enough as he spoke and then he'd gone silent and still. The subject of love had been dealt with as best it could be – a fleeting ache twisted her heart at the thought – and she wondered what troubled him now. She could only put his bleak expression down to her mention of his people and their plight. She reached up and touched him.

The feel of her hand on his face roused Nuada from his dark musings, and her look of concern gave him pause. Though he'd lost all chance of ever making his peace with Athair, his hopes of setting things right with Nuala had been given new life. And as for Elfraine, if he couldn't tell her what was in his heart then the least he could do was spare her such worry as he saw in her eyes now. She was right about one thing; they only had a month together, and he wanted her to be happy in that time. He didn't want to see her face wreathed with concern, least of all for _him_.

"There – there's room on the list for _you_ to pick somewhere… if you'd like," she said hesitantly. "Of course, if you'd rather not, I'm sure I can think of something."

Nuada seized on the opportunity to start out as he meant to go on. He caught her hand and carried it to his lips. "No, Lady," he murmured against the warmth of her skin. "I - I will think of somewhere." He stared at their joined hands, frowning slightly as he turned his mind to the matter. Like his stories, his choices of destination were limited; he doubted she'd think much of the dark, hidden places he'd haunted over the years and as for the ones out in nature, though the sun might shine brightly they were invariably overhung by the cloud of grim memory.

He was beginning to suspect he might have to cede the decision to Elfraine after all when one place sprang to mind. He'd not spent long there but it was a place of stark grandeur and sublime beauty and, like a beacon in the night, it stood out from all the others because it had been a place where he'd found a brief respite from the bleakness of reality. He thought she might like it too and he wanted to share it with her. Lifting his head, he met her eyes and gave her a slow smile.

Elfraine's heart skipped a beat. "You – you've settled on somewhere," she said, correctly interpreting the satisfied curve of his lips and the gleam in his eyes. "Where – where is it?" She glanced away; if he kept looking at her like that, she thought she might melt into a puddle right there in his arms.

"You will have to wait and see," he replied. "I would like to surprise you, Lady." He pressed his lips to her hand once more.

"Oh!" The feel of his warm breath on her skin sent a frisson through her body; she was certain she was about to melt. Looking up at him from under her lashes, she spoke before her wits could desert her entirely. "Is - is it here, um, in northern parts or does it lie to the south?"

His smile became a grin almost and for a moment Elfraine could image him as he might have been when he was younger… before he'd become the hard, foreboding man who carried the weight of his people's future on his shoulders.

"You think to wheedle it out of me by degrees, Lady. All your questions will be answered when I take you there." He tilted her chin and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "Now, are there any other places on your list?"

For the space of a heartbeat Elfraine was captivated by the warmth of his smile, and then his question registered and her face fell. There _was_ one other place on her list and it grieved her to have to mention it; he would no longer look so carefree once she had but then there was never going to be a good time to tell him of the last place she wanted – needed – to take him.

Her look told Nuada everything, however, and he spared her the words. His own smile disappeared. "Of course. Constantinople," he said quietly.

"I – I thought you might like to see Azenzêr's final..."

"Azenzêr?" he broke in sharply.

"Yes, that – that was your son's name." Elfraine's heart ached for Nuada. His expression was impassive but there was a tightness about his mouth and a certain look in his eyes which told her just how difficult this had suddenly become for him.

"Sunshine," he murmured at last.

Elfraine felt the tremor that ran through him. "Azenzêr was well-named," she said softly. "He was indeed a little ray of sunshine, laughing and smiling all the time, and charming everyone who came near him."

"Not everyone, Lady," Nuada corrected harshly. "You – you said Dihyā was killed… avenging his death. That – that means…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"You're right, of course," she admitted sadly. "Not everyone. Azenzêr was – he was murdered. I'm so sorry, love." She hugged him hard.

Nuada held her tightly as he buried his face in her hair. She was warm and solid - something to hold onto as he grappled with the knowledge that his – his _son_ had met such an end. After a moment he lifted his head and spoke, abruptly. "I want to go there - now." His earlier reluctance to confront the truth had disappeared and in its place was a burning need to find out what had happened… and to see for himself where his son had lived and died.

"N – now?" Elfraine stammered.

"Yes, now," he affirmed. "I know it is the middle of the night, and you needn't come with me if you don't wish to but if you would – if you would tell me where my son lies..."

"Of course, I'll tell you sweetheart." She paused. "And – and I'll come with you too, Nuada… if you've no objection."

He held her gaze and replied without hesitation. "I would like that, thank you, Elfraine."

… …

Twenty minutes later they were standing in the early-morning sunlight on top of a mountain in Turkey, some five thousand miles distant from New Jersey and BPRD Headquarters.

Elfraine was glad of Nuada's arm around her waist. She felt slightly disoriented and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. She looked up; he was scanning the immediate vicinity, his sword in hand.

"There is no one else about. It's safe enough." He released her and stood down. Sheathing his weapon, he walked over to the edge of the escarpment and looked out on the landscape, trying to find the outcrop of rocks Elfraine had told him about as they were getting dressed. They were deep in the countryside, about a hundred miles east of Istanbul, or Constantinople as it had sometimes been called, and it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. "Can you find the ledge from here?" he asked.

Elfraine walked up to his side and tried to get her bearings but it was impossible; she'd never seen the land from this vantage point. "If we were closer to the road I might know where we were," she said, pointing to the slate-grey ribbon winding its way along the valley floor below.

Nuada hooked his arm around her waist again and in an instant they were on the flat, in a stand of trees about ten yards back from the unsealed byway which snaked around the base of the mountain.

She looked around. "Oh! It - it's fairly close by… I think."

"Think?" he said, raising his brow; she didn't sound at all certain.

She turned to face him and gave him an apologetic shrug. "I've only ever been this way twice before and the last time was nearly a hundred years ago. It all looks a bit… different."

"You should learn to listen to the land, Elfraine, hear it as it talks," he murmured. "If you can do that then the changes wrought by time and tide will never confuse you and you will always know where you are." Lifting his head and closing his eyes, he lost himself in the warmth of the golden sun and reached out to the light and the magic in the air around him. He harkened to the hum of the earth and the whispering of the wind in the mountains, and he heard the age-old song of the land – the song it had sung since the world began. And as he listened, he learned from the land.

After several moments, he opened his eyes and looked down at Elfraine again. She was gazing up at him with the light of love in her eyes and he felt unaccountably self-conscious. He took her by the shoulders and quickly turned her round to face the ridge. "Come. Try it for yourself, Lady." Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her back against his chest and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Close your eyes."

Elfraine rested her hands on his forearms and did as he instructed.

"Feel the warmth of the sun on your face," he murmured as he closed his own eyes.

She tried to pay attention to the radiant heat of the great golden orb but the only thing she was aware of was the warmth of Nuada's arms as he held her and the hard heat of his hips and thighs as he pressed up against her.

"Listen to the breeze as it brushes past you," he urged, his voice low.

Compared to the whisper of his breath on her cheek, the zephyr was as nothing to her.

"Breathe in the scent of the earth."

It didn't smell half as good as the warm, heady scent of him.

"Hear the land as it talks."

His voice reverberated right through her, to the very depths of her being, and anything the land might have been saying was lost in the sound of his low, warm tones. Leaning back and resting her head on the hard leather of his armour, she gave herself over to the sensation of being utterly surrounded by him and wished with all her heart that the moment could last forever.

As he stood in the sun, holding Elfraine in his arms, the song of the earth washed through Nuada once more, telling him the story of the land and revealing its secrets to him. He was so caught up in the moment he nearly missed the subtle change. There was something else in the hum of nature… the land seemed to sing another song almost. Though it was a new one - one that was only starting - he thought the seeds of it might have been there all along and he strained to make sense of it. And as he bent all his magic towards the faint, ephemeral notes, skittering and skipping through the _amhrán ar an __Domhain_ like snatches of laughter on the breeze, they suddenly rippled through his soul and coalesced into a whisper which echoed in his heart and in his mind: _an Amhrán na Nuada agus Elfraine._

Elfraine spoke abruptly. "It's no good, Nuada!"

His eyes snapped open and the spell was broken.

"The only thing that fills my senses is you." The words were out before she could stop them and she flushed with embarrassment. "We – we should get moving," she stammered, trying to cover her slip. She'd promised him she would only say it the once and yet here she was, less than an hour later, with her love all but spoken aloud again. She pulled out of his arms and brushed past him, snatching up his hand and dragging him along behind her as she set off in a parallel direction to the road.

He dug his heels in after two or three steps and stopped short; Elfraine stumbled but he caught her before she fell. As he looked down into her eyes, he found himself yet again without the faintest idea of what to say. Though every fibre of his being was bursting with it, he couldn't give voice to what he'd just heard, what he _thought_ he'd just heard. She loved him and though she didn't know it, he loved her back. To tell her what the land had just whispered to him would be to hold out false hope… to her and him both. In a world full of unrealised possibilities it was simply one more thing which would never be. "Lady, you - you." He stopped and looked over at the road, searching wildly for his next words; it proved to be the saving of him. "You are going in the wrong direction!"

"What?" She looked confused.

"You are going the wrong way!" He took a deep breath and strove for a more even tone. "The site lies that way." He nodded in the opposite direction to which she'd been headed.

Elfraine followed his gaze. "Oh!" A frown knotted her brow. "You're right!... How – how did you know?"

His eyes swung back to her. "I know this land now." _I know now what we could be together... what we will never be._ Suddenly, he couldn't bear to look at her and he forced himself to move. Taking her hand he set off, leading her in the right direction. Eternity was awash with unfulfilled promise, he told himself. He was a realist and he knew this too.

… …

They walked in silence for ten or so minutes before coming to a hidden byway which led into a small crevice in the side of the mountain. The land climbed sharply and was covered in dense vegetation, giving no hint that there might be anything more to see at the head of the rocky fissure. Nuada knew there was a cave of sorts up there though, a notch in the landscape where Elfraine had raised a memorial to Dihyā… and where she'd laid his son's earthly remains to rest. A sudden dread seized him at the thought of what he was about to see, what he was about to hear, and for the briefest of moments he hesitated but Elfraine gave his hand a squeeze and he drew upon every last ounce of his self-control to shove down the emotions which threatened to choke him. By the Gods! What would he be like when he finally laid eyes on his son?

"I would like to climb up there," he said to Elfraine, breaking the silence between them. Physical exertion had always centred him, subjecting both rage and despair to ice-cold control. He was poised on a knife-edge now and he hoped the short but steep climb to the ledge would allow him to gain some sort of mastery over his feelings. "I take it you can manage."

"I'll be right behind you," she assured him.

"Very well then. I will see you at the top." He turned to the slope and took two steps then stopped. "And Elfraine," he said, speaking over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Do not lose your footing. I would not like to see you hurt." Without waiting for her reply, he started his ascent.

The tension was coming off him in waves and she bit down on pointing out the obvious. "Yes Nuada. I'll be careful," she called out instead as she started to follow him.

The climb was even more difficult than it looked and Nuada was thankful for it. As he concentrated on the interplay of arms and legs, the flexing and stretching of muscles, the rhythm of breathing, some of the tension began to ease and he soon regained a certain measure of self-control. And as he made his way up over the steep, demanding terrain, towards the ledge, he started to do the calculations.

His mind travelled back to the last time he'd been with Dihyā; it had been almost four centuries ago… in the latter part of the year which humans called 1614. That meant his son would have been born no later than the middle of the following year. He tried to remember where he had been then - what he'd been doing - but couldn't say with any certainty except in the most general of terms. How could he not have known there was another part of himself somewhere in this world… another part of himself aside from his sister?

Like the song of the land, Nuala had always been a presence to him, just as he had been to her. No matter where he was, he'd had only to close his eyes and listen to _an amhrán ar an __Domhain_ and he could feel her too, chiming on the wind… delighting and tormenting him by turns. He'd always _known_ her… or so he'd thought. Her song was silent to him now, no more than the merest of whispers whenever she was close by; Death had seen to that. It had seen to his son's brief song as well and Nuada fashed himself over why he'd never caught even the most fleeting note of that one small life as it was being lived. His son - _Azenzêr_ - had surely been as much a part of him as Nuala was. How could a father _not_ be aware of the cadence and sparkle of his own child's vitality?

Nuada almost missed his footing as the next question took him by surprise. Had Athair ever wondered that very thing about him and Nuala? After his epiphany of the night before last, he knew now that his father had loved him to the end but he and Balor had never had anything even remotely like the connection he'd shared with Nuala, not even when they'd been on the best of terms. He knew the reciprocity between himself and his sister was special, even amongst their kind, but if there was any story the land was going to tell him apart from its own and Nuala's then surely it would have been that of the ancient Elf King. He had never heard Balor's song though, nor Balor his, and he wondered if it was simply the will of the Gods that a parent and child should stand forever apart in that respect or whether there was some other reason for it. He couldn't help but ask the question yet again; why had he not known of his own son's existence?

The ledge was directly above him now and he could find no answer, or at least none that sat well with him. He covered the final few feet and hauled himself up onto the rocky outcrop to stand before the shallow cave which had served as his son's grave and Dihyā's memorial for nearly four hundred years. He was breathing hard by now and as he wiped the sheen of sweat off his forehead and stared at the darkened gouge in the mountainside, his earlier dread returned. The sound of Elfraine's approach broke in on his torturous thoughts and he quickly turned back to the edge of the incline, grateful for both the distraction and her company once more.

"Here, take my hand," he said as she neared the top. She reached out and he grabbed hold of her to help her up over the final part. He noticed she'd hardly broken a sweat and her breathing was no more strained than if she'd just taken a brisk walk, thanks, no doubt, to the dragon magic. As soon as she was standing beside him, he turned back to face the cave.

Elfraine could sense his disquiet. She knew why he had wanted to climb the final leg rather than use his magic to get them up to the ledge but it seemed he hadn't gained as much composure as he might have hoped for. "Are – are you all right?" she asked gently.

"Yes. I… no." He paused. "What – what does he look like?"

"He looks beautiful, love. Why don't you go and see for yourself," she suggested quietly. She could feel her own grief rising.

Nuada looked down at her; she didn't understand. "I – I have seen dead children – dead infants – before." He thought of the first time he'd ever seen such a sight. How to explain it? "Their – their final moments were all too clearly written on their faces."

"Oh, Nuada." Her heart wrenched as she suddenly understood his hesitation. "I don't think it makes it any easier but Azenzêr looks as if he's only sleeping. He is utterly perfect… an angel sent from Heaven."

He felt a small measure of relief at her words and inclined his head stiffly.

"I'll wait out here whilst you visit with him. I – I can pay my respects afterwards." Her voice hitched a little and she quickly turned away to hide the sorrow that suddenly pricked at her eyes but Nuada grabbed her hand and spun her back round.

"Tears?" he asked as he scanned her face.

"Yes, tears. Azenzêr was six months old when he died and I knew him and had the care of him for nearly five of those months. How could I not grieve for him?" She looked away. "And… and too, I – I cannot help but think of my own daughter whenever I think of him."

Nuada unconsciously tightened his hold on her hand. "What…?"

"I'll tell you everything afterwards," she cut in as she pulled her hand out of his. "You – you go and see him now. Come and get me when you're ready. I'll be waiting over there." She gestured towards a large, flat rock at the far end of the ledge and started to make for it. She'd taken no more than a step when she whirled back round to face him and flung her arms around his neck. "I – I…" Though it nearly killed her, she bit down on the words. "I'll be thinking of you," she said instead. Then she pulled his head down and gently pressed her lips to his before releasing him and turning away once more.

Touching his fingers to his lips, Nuada watched her walk over to the rock and arrange herself on it. He needed this space which she gave him but he tried to hold onto the warm taste and feel of her all the same. As she rested against the wall of the cliff, she lifted her face to the rays of the early-morning sun and closed her eyes.

He turned back to the dark entrance and squared his shoulders. He was Nuada, Silverlance - Crown Prince of Bethmoora, soon to be king. He had done many hard things in his life and he would do this too. But as he walked into the cool shade of the rocky overhang he feared it might prove to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done, and there was nothing of the realist in him as he came face to face with the unfulfilled promise of his son's brief life.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Azenzêr: (Amazigh – Berber) boy's name meaning 'sunray' or 'sunshine'.

An amhrán ar an Domhain: (Irish Gaelic) The song of the Earth.

An Amhrán na Nuada agus Elfraine: (Irish Gaelic) The Song of Nuada and Elfraine.

If you're interested, you can read about the first time Nuada ever saw dead elven children in chapter 1 of my short story, _The Season of the Wolf_ (chapter 1 posted here on FanFiction - two more to go.)

.

_Chapter posted 29th September 2013_

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has reveiwed recent chapters - I really appreciate your feedback.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI :)


	51. Chapter 50

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own any of the Hellboy characters, settings, etc. The original characters and plot of this story are mine though. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Chapter 50**

_He was so small!_ It was the first thing that struck Nuada as his eyes fell upon the tiny stone figure lying in the shadows at the back of the cave. He approached slowly, his stomach churning with an uneasy mix of dread and anticipation. The overhanging rock angled off sharply and he was forced to duck and then kneel as he reached the lapidified remains of the child he and Dihyā had made all those years ago. His thoughts scattered to the four winds, and for a long while all he could do was stare at the smooth, alabaster perfection before him.

Such paralyzing confusion was unfamiliar to him. He tried to imagine himself as he'd been only two days ago. Then, Dihyā and that part of his past had been many centuries laid to rest and he'd had no knowledge of this small life they'd created together. The rift with his sister had eaten at his soul as fiercely as ever – more so perhaps since she'd taken her life and his – but he'd long been accustomed to the weight of that grief and had fully expected to bear it until he breathed his last... _finally_ breathed his last, he amended. And as for the killing of his father – _his_ killing of his father – it too was a weight… one which he was still learning to carry. Two days ago there was no sacrifice he wouldn't have made in order to reclaim his people's place in the world, and he'd been steadfast and secure in his hatred of _all_ humans. Though his resurrection and his sister's had been a mystery – still was, for the most part - he had known who he was and what he was. Today, however, nearly all his certainties lay in ruins at his feet and it seemed he knew himself little better than he did the dead baby in front of him. A sick, empty feeling grew within him and he cast his mind about for something to hold onto. As he continued to look upon the lifeless features of the son he would never know, he found his anchor in the thought of what he owed this little child. He drew a deep, steadying breath and focused on the baby's earthly remains.

Elfraine was right; Azenzêr looked like an angel sent from the higher realms. He had turned a pale, almost translucent white in death, and every rounded surface and subtle line was preserved in exquisite detail. Nuada reached out and gently stroked the sweep of his son's unmarked brow. His fingers continued down to the cold, hard curve of a tiny cheek and then on to the delicate outline of a rosebud mouth which was parted just a fraction, as if on a sigh. Azenzêr was the picture of peace as he slumbered in his eternal rest, small comfort though that was.

Nuada's hand went up to the baby's head next and rested there on impossibly fine stone striations… downy wisps of hair once. He wondered what colour it had been - dark like Dihyā's or pale, like his and Nuala's… and before them, their father's. The little pearly shell of an ear caught his attention and his fingers slipped down to trace the tight folds and petite, angular point. The finest of elven artisans had surely never imagined anything so exquisitely perfect, even at the height of their craft.

_And his eyes_, he thought as he raised his own to gossamer-thin lids, closed now for all eternity. Had Azenzêr's eyes been flame-gold, like his, or smoky silver like Dihyā's? It was impossible to say. The elven warrior's hand hovered hesitantly over long, spiky lashes for a few seconds before he quickly pulled it back. He could wield both sword and spear with deadly precision and yet he feared he would damage or break the fragile-looking structures if he so much as breathed on them.

Someone – Elfraine, he realised – had swaddled the body in a beautifully-embroidered linen blanket and laid it to rest on a small mound of bedding. He reached out and took hold of a dust-covered corner which had come lose near the feet. As he stared at the soft, ecru material a dozen questions crowded his mind and his hand tightened reflexively. He was distracted by a dull, jingling sound as something fell against his knee. Glancing down, he saw what appeared to be an old rattle by his leg. He let go of the swathing cloth and picked it up. Sitting atop an intricately-carved pewter stem were four blackish-brown copper bells and a shaped piece of bone. Nuada gave it a gentle shake; the bells jangled then fell silent. _Had it been a favourite toy_, he wondered as his eyes flickered back to his son's inanimate form. With hands that were not quite steady, he carefully tucked the rattle back into the bedding. Azenzêr might never clutch it in his little fists again nor play with it but the old toy was at least something to keep the small baby company throughout eternity as he lay here in this lonely, forgotten place.

_Not forgotten_, Nuada reminded himself fiercely. Elfraine had always known where his son was; she'd laid him to rest here, visited him… brought him his father. She'd been his son's link with the living, and Azenzêr's memory had been kept alive by her for almost four hundred years until now, when it could finally be given into the safekeeping of his father and his people. "Not forgotten at all," Nuada murmured. Leaning forward, he carefully picked up his son's body and pressed his dark lips to the cold, stone forehead; it was time to find out what had happened, what had gone so terribly wrong all those years ago… and to face up to the awful truth that he had failed not only the woman he'd once loved but also the son he'd never had the chance to love.

… …

It should have been peaceful sitting there in the warm, morning sun with the hum and scent of nature filling the air; instead, Elfraine fashed herself over how Nuada was faring. She knew from bitter experience something of what he must be going through and a feeling of agitation gripped her. There were some things even friendship and love couldn't make better, nor all the good will in the world either.

A shadow fell across her face and she opened her eyes. The brightness dazzled her for a second and she started as she saw Nuada's dark form standing over her, silhouetted against the sun; she hadn't heard him approach. Her eyes quickly adjusted and her mouth formed a silent "oh" at the sight of Azenzêr's tiny body in his arms.

"Do you mind?" he asked quietly, holding out his dead child to her.

"No, of course not!" She scrambled to her feet and reached over to take the small bundle from him. Whilst Nuada divested himself of his weapons and armour, she gazed down at the inanimate and perfectly-formed body of the baby she'd once loved and cared for. He looked exactly the same as he had when she'd last seen him almost a hundred years ago and then three hundred years before that again, when he'd died. Tears welled in her eyes once more as she thought of him as he'd been in life, a smiling, gurgling infant who was mercifully unaware of the dreadful circumstances he and his mother were in… or of the savage blow fate, or rather the Vizier Reşid,was about to deal him.

She glanced up as Nuada laid his hard, leather armour on the ground beside his sword and spear. Straightening up, he silently held out his hands and she gave him his son back.

He cradled Azenzêr in one arm and sat down on the large, flat rock where she'd been resting. "Please, sit," he said, gesturing with his free hand to the space next to him.

Elfraine resumed her seat and angled round to face him. She bit her lip as she fought the urge to look away; the picture he made sitting there, holding his son's remains, was almost more than she could bear. His head was bent and he was staring down at Azenzêr. The pale fall of his hair hid his expression but the carriage of his body - usually so proud and upright - seemed bowed somehow. She reached out and brushed his hair back from his face.

His head snapped up at her touch and she flinched at the fierce, pained look in his eyes. "He… he had your colouring, love," she said softly, not knowing what else to say as she smoothed down a stray lock of Nuada's hair.

His dark lips formed a thin line and he gave a short, jerky nod. "What – what else can you tell me about him?"

She looked at the tiny, stone body in his arms and tried to concentrate on the happier memories she had of the wee boy. "Well… as I said, he had your hair but his skin was a deep bronze - like Dihyā's - and his eyes were the purest, gleaming silver. Not dusky silver like hers but Elven silver, she used to say." Elfraine flashed him a hesitant smile. "He was a happy baby. Once they'd gotten over their fear of him, he charmed _all_ the women in the harem. Even the most jealous of the…"

"Harem!" There was no mistaking the sudden anger in his voice. "What, by Aiglin, were Dihyā and my son doing in a harem? What were _you_ doing in one?"

Elfraine's face fell. She hadn't settled on any good way of telling him their story – in fact, she was certain no such way existed – but blurting out random bits and pieces of it was most definitely not something she would have done had she been thinking more clearly.

"Do you mean to tell me someone made _slaves _of you all?" Nuada asked, his fury utterly scorching by now.

"The Vizier Reşid," mumbled Elfraine.

"Slavery is one of the worst manifestations of your kind's grasping, voracious greed!" He practically spat out the words. "Only a hollow, empty _human_ could think he had the right to own another!"

"_Only_ a human?" The question was out before she could think the better of it.

He pinned her with an angry, flame-gold glare for several uncomfortable seconds but she held his gaze, a slightly defensive look on her own face, and made no attempt to take back her words; after all, experience had taught her they were only the truth and as a prince amongst the Fae, he would certainly know it.

Nuada looked away first. "And some _rare_ few of my kind," he added grudgingly.

Elfraine inclined her head slowly and picked her next words with more care. "They were different times, Nuada, and I would like to think a great many of _my_ kind have… well, if not exactly changed, then at least gotten better in some respects. You are right though," she said quickly before he could argue the point. "Reşid was certainly a hollow, greedy man and yes, he… he made slaves of Dihyā and Azenzêr… and of me."

Nuada's eyes narrowed but he focused instead on what really mattered at that moment. "How could this – this _Reşid_ have made a slave of _her_?" She was a leader, a warrior of her people. She was Djinn; a human should _not_ have been able to bind her." The irony of his words struck him even as they left his mouth and he scowled; _he_ was an Elven prince and a warrior, and yet a human had managed to bind _him_.

"Perhaps I should start at the beginning," Elfraine suggested.

"Please, do," he said curtly, looking down at his son's body. He was immediately aware of how he must sound and his eyes cut back to hers as he strove for a more even tone. "Forgive me, Lady. I – your words surprised me. I do not mean to be impolite."

"Oh, Nuada!" She knelt up and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a quick, fierce hug. She went to sit back but he encircled her with his free arm and held her close to him for a few seconds longer. "There's nothing to forgive, sweetheart," she murmured against his hair. "What happened is... It's not easy to tell and you won't find it easy to hear."

His lips curled in a mirthless smile and he loosened his hold on her. "Nevertheless, I will try and remember my manners. Now, please, tell me just what did happen."

Elfraine twisted round to sit beside him and leaned back into the crook of his arm. Keeping her eyes fixed firmly on Azenzêr's body, she began her tale. "About a month after I'd been hung I found myself in Constantinople."

"Constantinople! That… is a long way from England."

"In more ways than one," she murmured. "At the time I thought it was Hell."

"Was it so terrible?" he asked, a frown creasing his brow.

She gave a small, empty laugh. "No. Yes. I mean, I really did think it was Hell… or Purgatory at the very least."

"What?"

The note of surprise in his voice made her wince. "You'll no doubt think me foolish but I – I thought myself dead. I was convinced I was in Hell and about to be tormented by the Devil."

Nuada was utterly perplexed. As incredible a thing as their resurrection was, it had taken him no more than a few minutes to work out what had happened to him and his sister after they'd regained consciousness in the Chamber of the Golden Army four months ago and though Thomas Manning had most certainly proved himself a torment, there'd never been any question of mistaking him for a devil. "But – but you must have surely realised the truth of the situation…"

Elfraine shook her head, a faint blush staining her cheeks. "You have to remember, I'd only been alive for thirty five years, and it _was_ 1615. What else was I to think except that I was in Hell? I couldn't even begin to imagine any other explanation for it all."

Nuada recalled one of their discussions from the previous afternoon - the one involving the dragon, or 'sly wyrm' as she'd called him, her precious vial of holy water and some salt, amongst other things. It was suddenly only all too easy to see how she'd believed herself to be in Hell - for a short while, at least. "Yes… but - but to think such a thing for a month…" he said.

"Well, maybe not quite a month." She was starting to sound defensive, she knew, but it was a touchy subject.

"How, by the Gods, did the truth escape you for so long?"

It was Elfraine's turn to scowl now; she was convinced his words carried an implicit rebuke. "A day or so after my execution, I found myself by the Pool of London," she began, a little testily.

"I won't even ask," Nuada muttered.

She snorted at that. "Probably best not to. Anyway, I'd stumbled into the docklands and almost immediately ran into some Barbary pirates, on shore and up to Heaven only knew what mischief."

Nuada raised his eyes skywards; Ottoman corsairs!

Elfraine continued speaking. "From the moment I revived after my hanging, everything seemed like a hellish nightmare. In my… my daze, I suppose, I wandered through some of the worst parts of London – places I'd never seen before - and I thought everyone I encountered was either another lost soul awaiting judgment, like me - whom they all surely thought mad - or else a demon put there to torment the damned. I mistook the pirates for the latter, and nothing they did gave me any reason to think any different."

Nuada frowned; it suddenly struck him that it must have been a terrifying situation for her to find herself in.

"I had no idea what they were saying; they were speaking in their – their demon tongue, or so I thought at the time," she continued. "They grabbed hold of me and pulled me about, and I started screaming. That only seemed to annoy them and one pulled a knife. He seized me around the shoulders and in less time than it takes to draw breath, he slit my throat." She shook her head as she thought of that sudden, brutal act. "I might have only recently been hung but I wasn't used to such… rough handling. It – it was quite a shock and the first – the _only_ – thing that came to mind was that it was God's punishment for taking it upon myself to pass judgment on Gretheved in the first place and then for not repenting of it afterwards. That I might be immortal… well, why would I think such a thing? In any event, I died – once more - and my corpse had barely hit the ground when I revived again."

She looked up at Nuada, a grim smile on her face. "In my ignorance and stupidity, I quickly lost the one advantage I could have had in the whole sorry situation. The corsairs must have been utterly astounded to see me get to my feet but I was so petrified, I never even noticed. I know now they probably thought _I _was the demon, for a short while at least. It soon became apparent I was no such thing and from then on in I was an astonishing curiosity… something to be cut, slashed and carved into pieces as some sort of - of… I don't know, experiment, I suppose. The experience pretty much tallied with everything I'd ever been told about eternal damnation and though I screamed and cried and pleaded throughout the whole ordeal, it did me no good. I was no longer anything more than sport for the Devil."

"Oh, Elfraine!" Nuada's arm tightened around her. To think of her being terrified and helpless, being treated in such a way… He pulled her in close.

She reached up and touched his cheek. "It's all right, Nuada. Four hundred years is more than enough time to come to terms with a great many things, don't you think?" Her hand slid down to the opening of his shirt and slipped under, coming to rest on a small scar, about an inch or so wide, on his chest. She could feel his heart beating, strong and steady, against her palm. "I'm sure you've discovered that for yourself over the centuries."

"True," he acknowledged, staring down at her splayed fingers. "But some cuts go deeper than mere flesh and some never entirely heal." Though the scar beneath her hand was one of the smallest he bore, it was also the one which had caused him the most pain.

Elfraine followed the line of his eyes. She moved her hand slightly to reveal the small ridge of mended muscle and skin on his chest. "You are right there," she agreed quietly. "Like this one?" Her fingers lightly traced the neat, raised edges.

He hesitated for a second. "Yes, like that one."

Elfraine looked back up at him, not quite certain how to ask her next question. "Um…"

"Nuala," he said, correctly anticipating her.

"Oh." Her fingers stilled.

"She no doubt has one exactly like it." A hint of sorrow lurked in the depths of his dark gold eyes. "I finally found the one thing she was willing to share with me." To his surprise, he felt none of the usual bitterness at the thought.

Elfraine could think of nothing to say to that. The healed wound was right over his heart and she realised it must have been the fatal blow which had ended his life – and Nuala's – four years ago. She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. The heat of life coursed through him now - warm and vital - and to think of him as cold, inanimate stone… to think of a world without him in it… She repressed a shudder but in the next instant her heart squeezed painfully as she reminded herself yet again that if she succeeded with Fortune she would live out her natural span of years, be it one or fifty, and Nuada would be neither memory nor dream nor anyone who waited in her future. He was not hers, she knew, and never would have been in any event but if she triumphed in her quest she would have absolutely nothing of him to hold onto over the years. Some cuts did indeed go deep but then that was a lesson she'd already learnt, nearly four hundred years ago when her beautiful, adored child, who'd looked at the world – and her mother - with such bright, trusting eyes, had been abused and murdered for Gretheved's vile purposes and then tossed aside like a mangled, broken doll. She forced her mind away from the agonising images; she had a chance to fix things so that she would never let the piece of filth who'd been her third husband into their lives in the first place, and obliterating the memories of her time with Nuada was a sacrifice she'd have to make if she was to stand any chance of putting things right by Fortune.

It suddenly struck her that he too had a chance to fix things and she was glad, both for him and of the distraction from her own thoughts and feelings. "Last – last night, whilst I was introducing Mistress Gràinne to the others, your sister seemed... happy to talk to you," she began tentatively. Out of the corner of her eye, she'd seen Nuala embrace her brother and she'd seen too the look of disbelief on his face and then the dawning of a nascent joy before Krauss had commanded their attention.

"You are remarkably observant," he replied, glancing down at her.

His words gave Elfraine pause and she looked at him suspiciously. "You're not making fun of me, are you?"

"No, not at all. I meant it as a compliment." He tilted his head and gave her a questioning frown.

"Well, I did manage to go a whole month once without noticing I was alive…"

Nuada's lips twitched and a sudden gleam of amusement appeared in his eyes. "Not _quite_ a month, I believe, and were I in your place, I would have made the same mistake," he gallantly lied.

"You would not have!" she averred. "Though it's kind of you to say so."

His amusement faded and his expression became sombre once more. "I do not mean to make light of what you went through, Elfraine."

"I know you don't, sweetheart," she said quickly. "_I'm_ the one who led us down that path. Sometimes, with some things – not everything, I know – but with some things, the only thing you _can_ do is make light of them to… to…"

"Put them in their proper place?" he suggested, recalling her earlier words about some of her less pleasant experiences as a musician in the courts of Europe several hundred years ago.

"Yes, that's it exactly," she agreed as she lifted her hand and reached out to touch Azenzêr's cold, stone face. "Though there are other things which can never be put into any sort of perspective." She wrapped her arm around Nuada's waist again. "Anyway, I do hope you and your sister can make your peace with one another."

"I think we might," he replied slowly, staring at his son; he thought he could see a resemblance to his sister and himself in those still, tiny features. "At least, I think it's possible to find some common ground, something which has eluded us for far too long." He glanced back at Elfraine and hesitated once more before plunging on. "It… it was the one thing about her I could never understand."

"Oh?"

_How to explain it? _Nuada thought to himself. He wasn't entirely certain he could. "We share…" He stopped abruptly. "We _shared_ a connection. There was a time when no matter how many miles separated us, I was always… _always_ aware of her - of her presence in this world."

"We all carry our loved ones in our hearts," Elfraine remarked.

"Yes, but it went beyond that," he replied. "She wasn't just in my heart; she was everywhere. When we were close by one another – when we stood in the same land, it… it was as if… she was with me, in me. And more than that, we shared a physical connection too; if I bled so did she." His lips twisted in the grimace of a smile. "It was one more reason to make sure I was proficient in battle - to spare her any… consequences." He glanced down at a faint, silvery scar, just visible on his forearm under the edge of his sleeve. "I was not always successful in my efforts. It was only after I went into exile - after there was an ocean between us - that her… her presence - my awareness of her – dimmed. But even then, like the song of the land, she was always with me… never separate from me."

"How did you breathe?" Elfraine mused. "How did _she_ breathe?"

Nuada looked startled. "It was never a burden!" _But it was_, he realised, even as the words left his mouth. He'd known for the greater part of his life that it had often been a weight on Nuala - in all sorts of ways, many of which he'd never properly understood - but he'd never considered until this moment that it might have weighed heavily on him too and, just like that, he found himself looking at the shattered remnants of yet another certainty. His brows snapped together and he stared blindly at the horizon as he wrestled with the idea that the treasured connection with his sister had been in some way suffocating. Though it had delighted him and had been such an intimate part of him, it had also been a source of intense frustration more often than not… a piercing ache which could never be assuaged, a promise never to be realised.

He'd always placed the lion's share of the blame for that state of affairs on their father. "Athair tried so hard to shield her heart from mine… to smother the connection we shared," he murmured as he glanced back down at Elfraine, a troubled expression on his face. "Even though his efforts succeeded for the most part, I – I could never understand why she didn't feel as I did when it came to our people, not when it was so important a thing as our survival. How could she _not_ see it my way? How could she betray us… betray _me_?"

"She must have wondered the same thing about you," observed Elfraine.

"No!" His denial was emphatic. "She had to know I would never…" He paused. "She could never expect me to agree with her thinking – _his_ thinking – in that of all things!" But once given voice, the idea would not be quite and he struggled with it. "Perhaps she could," he admitted grudgingly after a moment or two. "Though if she did, it would only be thanks to Father's interference."

"Did you never think she could make up her own mind about things?" Elfraine continued. "Without any interference from anyone, including her father or brother… though you both surely influenced her just as she must have influenced you."

Her tone sounded neutral enough but Nuada seized on the opportunity to change the subject; he'd never discussed his and Nuala's connection with anyone, not even Dihyā or before her, Éadaoin, the other woman he'd once loved, and he was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the conversation now. "You seek to rebuke me?" he asked, giving Elfraine a narrow look.

His question surprised her. "No! Not at all! I want to see you happy. It's an unavoidable consequence of…" She stopped dead. "Of the way I feel. I merely sought to reassure myself that you could make your peace with your sister. I meant no offense or criticism. It's just I - I don't want it to go wrong for you. I don't like to think of you being alone in this world or at odds with someone you love." She glanced up at him, anxious shadows haunting her soft, brown eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, Elfraine. You and I are not at odds, _mhuirnín_." The words were out before he could stop them and he could have kicked himself. She went still against him and as she stared up at him, her expression a gut-wrenching mixture of disbelief and cautious hope, he cast his mind about wildly for a way out of the yawning hole he'd just dug for himself. "You - you need not worry about me, Lady, but I thank you for your concern," he added stiffly.

The dawning light in her eyes faded and he looked away before he said or did something to dig himself even deeper… like give in to the almost overpowering urge to kiss her until her eyes were shining once more or heap upon her the words of love which clamoured in his heart for release. Nothing had changed and it was unforgivable of him, he knew, to have raised her hopes for even so much as a second. But then he made the mistake of looking at her again and he couldn't help himself. With a groan, he bent his head and slanted his lips over hers. She sighed against his mouth and melted into him, her hands coming up to thread through his hair.

With some of the most fundamental truths of his life in ruins, and his thoughts and feelings – his sense of self - in turmoil, reality came down to this: his cold, dead child in one arm and this warm, living woman in the other. He deepened their kiss and tightened his hold on her. Though she'd played an unwitting part in the tearing down of those truths, she'd shored him up too he realised. For all that he held fast to his determination to reclaim his people's rightful place in the world, a small part of him had begun to despair of ever being able to drive back the swarming tide of humanity. The three pieces of the crown had been destroyed by Liz Sherman and with them, all chance of reawakening the Golden Army. And with no Golden Army, there was no chance of succeeding against the old foe. If he was honest, his promises sounded hollow and his threats empty, even to his own ears, and the chilling silence of oblivion pressed in on all sides, for both him and his people. Yet twice now Elfraine had told him he had it in him to find a way through for them, that his time to shine had not yet come and when it did he would rise to the occasion. They were easy enough words to say even though she claimed her knowledge came from their experience of joining together in the glittering web of magic but the conviction he'd heard in her voice and the faith he'd seen in her eyes were less easy to dismiss. He prayed to the Gods she was right and that whatever it was she thought she saw in him was real.

She pulled back first from their kiss. "I - perhaps I should continue with my story," she murmured breathlessly against his lips.

Nuada exhaled and rested his forehead on hers for a moment. "Perhaps you should." He lifted his head and looked her in the eye. "And Elfraine, of everyone in this world I am… _glad_ it's you here with me now. You cared for my son and I… I know you care for me. I thank you for that. You have a way about you which I think must make even the bitterest of pills a little easier to swallow."

Her eyes were suddenly full of questions and she gave him a small, uncertain smile. "I can't help but think you must consider _me_ the bitter pill sometimes… like just now," she said.

"No, _mhuirnín_, never that." The corner of his mouth lifted in wry acknowledgement. For all his earlier determination to reach a compromise with his sister, he now realised there'd been some small part of him which had still expected to persuade her to his point of view. In terms of making his peace with her, it would have been disastrous and he was once again in Elfraine's debt. "You only ask the questions I should have asked myself a long, long time ago," he admitted, "and for that too, I thank you." He looked back to his son and drew a deep breath before continuing. "I** -** I'll only ever know him – know his life – through your words so please, tell me everything…"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Lapidify: To change to stone [from French _lapidifier,_ from Medieval Latin _lapidificāre,_ ultimately from Latin _lapis_ stone].

Azenzêr: (Amazigh – Berber) boy's name meaning 'sunray' or 'sunshine'.

Vizier: (Turkish - _vezir_) high-ranking political advisor or minister.

Reşid: (Turkish) masculine name.

Barbary pirates: Pirates and privateers based in North Africa and operating mainly in the western Mediterranean between the 16th and 19th centuries. The height and scope of their activity peaked in the early to mid 17th century. They not only seized ships but also engaged in raids on coastal towns and villages, mainly in southern Europe but even as far away as Britain, Ireland, the Netherlands and Iceland, in order to capture Christian slaves to be sold in North Africa and the Middle East. Though I was unable to find any accounts of them putting ashore in London, for the purposes of this story one lot did. It's at least plausible they could have escaped the notice, for a short while, of what passed for the authorities in those days; some of the pirates were Europeans (e.g. Jack Ward, Zymen Danseker) and these men brought European sailing and ship-building techniques – then the most advanced in the world – to the Barbary Coast in the early years of the 17th century. Also, see Des Ekin's book, _The Stolen Village: Baltimore and the Barbary Pirates_ for an account of a 1631 raid on a small Irish village in West Cork in which some 100 inhabitants (50 children – "even those in the cradle" - 34 women and the rest men) were carried off by Ottoman corsairs. Only two ever returned to Ireland. Ekin notes that the _Baltimore_ story and its glimpse into the Arab slave trade provides a rare example of an occasion when the "boot was on the other foot", so to speak, for those nationalities engaged in the transatlantic slave trade which geared up from about 1562 onwards and resulted in almost four hundred years' worth of shattered lives and crushing misery.

Jiniri: female Djinn. (Djinn: Arabic spirits, or genies, who inhabit an unseen world in dimensions beyond the human world in Islamic mythology. The djinn, humans and angels make up the three sentient creations of God. The Koran mentions that djinn are made of a smokeless and scorching fire, and they have the physical property of weight. Like human beings, the djinn can also be good, evil, or neutrally benevolent.)

Dihyā al-Kāhinat: O/C inspired by and based (very) loosely on Daya Ult Yenfaq Tajrawt (c. early 7th century AD – c. late 7th century AD). A Berber religious and military leader who led indigenous resistance to Arab expansion in Northwest Africa. Al-Kāhinat (the female priestess-soothsayer) was the nickname used by her opponents because of her reputed ability to foresee the future.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

Éadaoin: (Irish Gaelic – see also _Étaín_) Pronounced 'AY-deen'. Figure from Irish mythology, the heroine of _Tochmarc __Étaín_ (The Wooing of Étaín). Identified as a sun goddess.

… … …

**A/N:** Thank you to the readers who reviewed the last chapter. I appreciate your encouraging comments and am glad to hear you're enjoying the story.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI :)


	52. Chapter 51

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Warning: **This chapter deals with the subject of rape, including marital rape (and the use of the word 'marital' in no way detracts from the seriousness of the crime or mitigates the culpability of the rapist.)

.

**Chapter 51**

Elfraine stared at his chest as she sought to hide her confusion; she didn't know what to make of Nuada's behaviour. For one brief, radiant moment his words seemed to imply that he loved her and in the next he was all stiff, distant formality… and in the minute after that again, he was kissing her as if…

She abruptly stopped that train of thought. If he felt anything more for her than… _friendship_ mixed in with a healthy dose of lust then he'd had more than enough opportunities to tell her. As it was, he'd taken care _not_ to raise her hopes and when she'd misinterpreted his looks and words - grasped at straws, she supposed - he'd been quick to set her straight, though in not so many words. She'd told him on several occasions she valued his honesty; she told herself now she could only trust to that honesty. Had he loved her, he would have said something... not that it would have ultimately done either of them any good.

Doing her best to ignore the ache in her heart, she lifted her head and met his gaze once more. A slight frown creased her brow. She was coming to the part of the story which would cause her pain on her own account. Though she believed she had long since dealt with her first day in Constantinople, she'd never spoken the words aloud, not even to Dihyā, who had guessed what had happened. Elfraine quickly decided there was no need to burden either the story of Azenzêr's brief life or Nuada with those details.

"I'll tell you everything I know sweetheart," she said to him now, fingers mentally crossed. She settled back into the crook of his arm and took up her tale once more.

"I think we were up to the part where I'd just made the acquaintance of the pirates. The - the _novelty_ soon wore off and they gagged me, threw a sack over me, and then carried me back to their ship. I was tossed into a small compartment in the hold and that's where I stayed for what seemed like an eternity though I think now it was probably only three or four weeks. I completely lost track of time. There wasn't a single crack in the timbers to let the light in… That's no doubt a good thing in a ship's hold," she added, attempting a jest.

Nuada gave a perfunctory smile.

"I never saw anyone the whole time I was down there," Elfraine continued. "The pirates didn't think it was necessary to give me food or water and, of course, they were quite right not to waste supplies. The one thing I _did_ have plenty of – time – was squandered on wild, mad thoughts of hellfire and damnation. Between starving and reviving, and hearing all sorts of commotion on deck, there was more than enough to keep my foolish beliefs alive. It – it was a strange time," she admitted hesitantly. "Sometimes the demons would speak in their infernal tongue – loud, harsh noises… wicked laughter. Then there were times when I could smell smoke, hear the crackle and pop of burning timber... screaming, shouting… the booming, shuddering roar… the – the catastrophic sound of the world collapsing, or so I thought." She shot Nuada a swift look. "I later realised it was the pirates attacking other prey but at the time… it was as if the flaming pits of Hell were about to open up and swallow me whole. The worst times of all though…" She stopped.

"Yes?" Nuada prompted gently.

"The worst times of all were when it was quiet. And if I was on the point of death – from lack of food or water, or both – it was even worse. My stomach would try to eat itself, if it wasn't already in my throat with fear, and my nerves would stretch to breaking – beyond breaking. All around me, I - I could hear the demons whispering, scratching in the dark... waiting for me to make some sound. I was too terrified to move. My breathing was too loud! My thoughts the same! I'd hide my face in my arms and make myself as small as I could… be as still as I could. Every now and then, one of them would come close and bite me, and sometimes the others would join in and I would bite my arm in turn, to - to keep from screaming..."

Nuada looked down at the top of her head; she painted a chilling picture of both deprivation and the terrors of the mind, and he could think of nothing to say. All he could do was hold her close but it seemed in no way enough.

"I was convinced that if I made a single sound," Elfraine continued, "they'd fall on me, like they did when I first met them, and plunge their daggers into me, over and over again… or devise some other hellish punishment. Sometimes, I'd fall unconscious – I think those might have been the times when I died from lack of food - and when I came round again, the demons would be somewhere above me, speaking in their infernal tongue, or there would be the hideous screaming, the fierce shouting… the times to be preferred, for if the demons were busy with other souls then they would surely leave mine alone. Or I'd wake and it would still be quiet… they would still be whispering and scratching in the dark." An involuntary shudder racked her slender frame.

Nuada did the only thing he could do; he held her tighter. "What do you mean, they – they would bite you?" he asked carefully, going back to her earlier statement. It puzzled him; he couldn't imagine it was the corsairs.

Elfraine glanced up, a wry expression on her face. "Rats," she said succinctly.

He started and a flicker of distaste flashed across his sharp features. He'd seen enough of those vermin when he'd lived beneath human cities, in abandoned human sewers, to develop a thorough dislike of the voracious creatures. There was no carrion or filth they wouldn't eat. "I see," he replied, his dark-gold gaze understanding as he returned Elfraine's look.

Her face wrinkled in disgust. "For the three or four weeks I was in the hold – during the times I was dead – I suspect the rats ate quite well… or at least better than I did."

Nuada's look mirrored hers now. He had no doubt the vermin had dined well, for a while at least. But he also suspected they'd made themselves quite sick… if the cabalus's experience of eating Elfraine's immortal flesh was anything to go by… It was probably not a thought to share.

"Anyway," she continued, "we eventually reached Constantinople and the pirates docked in what was then the Boukoleon Palace harbour. The palace was no longer used by the imperial family. Instead, it was in the possession of the Vizier Reşid who had an interest in the arcane… the dark arts. I found all this out later along with the fact that the pirates supplied Reşid with what slaves he needed as well as the odd… _curiosity_ or two which they picked up in their travels."

"_Curiosities_ such as you," he murmured.

"Yes! I was certainly that!" agreed Elfraine. "It didn't take them long to realise I would fetch a tidy sum. That's why they took me with them. After we'd docked, Reşid came on board, I was dragged from the hold, my abilities demonstrated, and once he was satisfied I was worthy of his collection, he had me delivered to his harem whilst he settled his account with the pirates and made his other purchases. It was the next day that I met…"

Something in the way she rushed through that last part must have alerted him, or maybe it was simply the mention of the seraglio but Nuada's arm tightened around her and he broke in as a sudden, unwelcome thought occurred to him. "He… he didn't…" His voice trailed off; he couldn't finish the sentence.

He didn't have to. Elfraine knew exactly what he was getting at, and her hesitation answered the question he couldn't bring himself to ask.

"Oh, _mhuirnín_," he groaned as he buried his face in her hair.

Elfraine didn't need to see his expression to know what he was thinking; the tone in his voice was clear enough and her reply was instinctive. "Nuada, please don't! I don't want your pity; I'm stronger than that. I would far rather have your respect."

"You have it, Lady," he quickly assured her, lifting his head again. "But…"

She turned around and knelt up to face him as she tried to be matter-of-fact about what had happened. "Reşid only did what countless men do when they acquire a new piece of property; he asserted his proprietary rights… put me in my place and made me understand that he was my master in every way." There was a distinct note of bitterness in her voice as she said that, she knew. _So much for being matter-of-fact __and not weighing down the tale_. Drawing a deep breath, she continued.

"When all is said and done, I wasn't much more than property to my father, then to my Uncle Rowland – even though they loved me - and then to Robert, then Geoffrey, then… then _Gretheved_! And finally, Reşid. It was only afterwards – _many_ decades afterwards - that I realised what it meant for a daughter, a niece, a sister, a wife, a mother – a woman – to be a person in her own right. I… I was a product of my times." Her smile was not really a smile at all. "It wasn't until over a century later that I came to understand the… the true weight of what had been done to me as a woman, and not only by Reşid but by my husbands too."

Nuada opened his mouth to speak but she rushed on. "As it turned out, I was not to Reşid's taste and after that first night he never touched me again, except to test my immortality. Unfortunately, he was still interested in that!"

Her look was steady as she held Nuada's gaze but he still struggled to take in her words.

"The only thing I'll say about the act itself," she added softly, "is that what Reşid did to me then was nowhere near as painful as what he did to me afterwards, or what the pirates did to me when they put me to the test on the London docks, and it was not all that much worse than anything I ever had to put up with from either of my first two husbands." That was the logical way to look at it, she told herself, trying to be matter-of-fact once more.

Nuada's brow creased as he attempted to remember what she had said about those two men, the night before last. It hadn't been a great deal - simply the bare facts - and there'd been next to nothing of them in her diaries.

"As you know, neither of them were my choice," she continued, "and whilst I might have briefly entertained romantic notions about the first one, Robert, the wedding night soon put paid to those." There was only wry acceptance in her tone. "In terms of the act, Reşid fell somewhere south of Robert, and with Robert it was truly a chore – _a wifely duty_. I often wondered why his poor mistress ever put up with him! With Reşid, it… it…" She trailed off and regrouped. "I still thought myself in Hell at the time and what he did accorded fairly well with that… notion. I – I can accommodate it on those terms." She gave Nuada a tight smile. "None of it was important, not in any way that really means anything."

He could have argued with that but he remembered her earlier words about putting things in their proper place. When she'd first said them, he'd thought them words of defence, words to hide behind. Looking at her now, hearing more of what she'd been through, knowing what he did about the human world, he realised they were words of strength and she didn't hide behind them; she stood squarely in front of them. She had clearly found her own way of accommodating the harrowing events she'd lived through.

With a flash of insight, he realised that that was why she could lead him down the twisting, turning paths of her stories, more often than not sidestepping the traps of despair and shepherding him past the dark spectres lurking in the undergrowth. She had mastered her demons and was no longer the powerless woman she'd once been… the woman who'd been born into the world as little more than property, passed from man to man: daughter, niece, wife, and finally, slave… Then after that, the woman who knew what it was to be invisible. Though it must have weighed heavy on her, it hadn't broken her and she stood now, face to the world, with courage and pride. Still, his heart ached for that other, unknown, woman she must have been four hundred years ago.

Unbidden, an image of his sister sprang to mind: sad, silent… faded… caught between father and brother, powerless under their suffocating weight. Daughter, sister, and finally, four years ago, little more than a bargaining chip in a game not of her making. It had only taken him the better part of four thousand years but Nuada suddenly understood, at last, the true weight of what he and his father had done to _her_. Sorrow and guilt bit hard.

"None of _them_ were important," Elfraine added quietly.

He felt a chill in his heart; was that how Nuala had eventually made _her_ accommodations? He pushed aside the thought; she'd accepted his olive branch last night, though as she'd rightly said there was still much to be settled… much to be mended, too.

"Except for Geoffrey," Elfraine was saying, "and I only hold him in esteem because he - he gave me Fortune." There was a catch in her voice as she said her daughter's name.

Nuada's gaze flickered down to the cold, stone body of his own dead child in his other arm and he realised she was right, yet again. Death, the loss of a child… _that_ was final, irrecoverable. Of everything that had happened to her, that was the worst; it was the thing which hurt the most. He hadn't even known his son but it still cut deep to look on Azenzêr's small, lifeless face and know he had failed the helpless infant… failed everyone, it seemed.

_How must Elfraine feel_, he wondered as he lifted his head and searched her face. She'd had her daughter - watched her grow, loved her - for five, six years... Reşid had been a small, ugly man using the crude, ugly weapon that such men did against those less powerful than themselves. Her husbands too, even though their base actions had been sanctioned by both church and state… _Human_ church, _human_ state… great ideals brought low by _human_ failing. When measured against the loss of her daughter - of that one little life - those small, ugly men and their base, crude acts faded into insignificance; they were nothing, not worth so much as even a moment's thought. He understood that now. With a groan, he hooked his hand around the back of Elfraine's head and pulled her in close, holding her face against his shoulder. He wondered what other revelations would be – _could be_ - visited on him this day as he hugged her tight.

Once more, his thoughts and feelings were in turmoil but there was one thing he _was_ sure of. He set her back and looked her in the eye as he spoke. "Please, Elfraine, don't ever doubt that you have the full measure of my respect." Reaching up, he pushed the hair back off her face, the touch of his palm on her cheek a gentle caress. "Were it in my power, I would turn back the tide of time and spare you everything but none of it diminishes you in any way and you stand strong before the world. How… how could I not…" His voice trailed off. _Love you for everything that you _are, his mind finished. Still, nothing had changed. How could he say it?

Elfraine clasped his forearm and turned her face into his hand, biting the inside of her lip and trying to fight back the tears which suddenly came out of nowhere. "Oh! Th – thank you," she stammered, wanting to say more but unable to think of anything except the one thing he _didn't_ want to hear. She made herself meet Nuada's gaze once more. "Thank you," she repeated, more steadily this time and completely unaware that her glowing look and tremulous smile said everything for her.

Nuada sucked in a sharp breath at the expression on her face. He was certain that had he had all the treasures of his people to heap upon her, she wouldn't have valued them half as much as she did the words he'd just given her. And he was just as certain he knew what words were trembling on the tip of _her_ tongue. She'd given them to him once and would do so again, gladly, if he but asked for them; he knew that. They were the same words which were now on the tip of _his_ tongue… the words he would deny her, cheat her of.

"Say them!" He spoke before he could stop himself. There was a second or two of stunned silence, and then he quickly pulled his hand away from Elfraine's cheek and out of her grasp. It might have been what his heart was urging but his mind was horrified at the slip.

"Wh – what?"

She looked and sounded confused… uncertain; he couldn't stand to see her like that. His hand was back on her cheek in an instant. "Please."

Wariness shadowed her eyes, as if she thought he'd laid a trap and was waiting to spring it on her. Nuada's dark lips twisted in a grim smile. The only one who was about to stumble into any sort of a trap was him, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

"_Please_," he repeated, watching her like a hawk, willing her to say the words… hating the note of desperation he heard in his voice.

Elfraine held his gaze for a long moment, myriad expressions flitting across her face as she tried to make sense of her feelings. He had just invited her to say the words she'd had so much trouble keeping to herself – the words which were clamouring to be let out – and now, perversely, she found herself reluctant to say them. A slight frown creased her brow as she puzzled over that, and then a look of wry dismay as she realised the reason for her hesitation. So much for high-flown ideals. She reached out and touched his hand as she spoke. "I'll say them now, Nuada, but no more after this."

He opened his mouth to ask why not.

She lifted a finger to his lips, cutting him off. "Nothing has changed…"

He knew that right enough.

"And no matter how many times I might say them, they'd do neither of us any good," she continued. "I know love is supposed to be selfless and until this moment, I would have said mine was but it's not. You might think that makes it a worthless, trifling thing – and I don't know that you'd be wrong there - but I want something in return… my flawed human heart wants something in return."

Nuada knew a sinking feeling; she was going to push him for the words he simply could not give her, no matter how much he wanted to. As she had earlier though, in his quarters at the Bureau, she granted him a reprieve of sorts.

"And if you can't give it freely," she said, "then I'm not going to play the lovesick fool for you. I – I learnt my lesson with… with my third husband." She removed her hand from his mouth.

"I am not…" he started to say heatedly.

"No, I know you're not," she cut in. "But I am still me." Her attempt at a smile fell flat but then her heart was in her eyes and she said the words. "Nuada, for whatever it's worth to you, I do love you… so much so that I feel I'm going to burst with it."

He closed his own eyes, not knowing what to say. Her words were everything he'd asked for… everything he wanted. They were a balm to his heart… and a stinging nettle too. They were everything he shouldn't want, _couldn't_ want, he reminded himself sharply, and they were nothing he had any right to. His eyes snapped open again. "Why?" he demanded abruptly as he dropped his hand again.

A strange look flitted across Elfraine's face, and _she_ was briefly lost for words. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry," she murmured. "You really can't leave well enough alone, can you?" Her tone held a hint of exasperation now.

"You said you'd been celibate for four hundred years," he began.

"What?" She was surprised by his blunt statement and unsure whether she should be offended by it or not.

"When you traded _Manning's_ rune stone, for the kaleidoscope," Nuada replied shortly.

"Oh, yes. So I did." Her look was not quite as loving as it had been a moment ago. "You were being rather provoking, as I recall. I wouldn't have said it otherwise."

"And yet later that very night you admit _me_ to your bed. Why? Did you love me even then?"

"You're being rather provoking _now_, not to mention naïve," she muttered, feeling more and more like some small creature lying on a dissecting tray. "No, I did _not_ love you then!"

"So why?" he insisted, ignoring the first part of what she'd said.

Elfraine now felt like a fly having its wings torn off. It was time to fight back. "Because you were _nice_… and _safe_!"

His eyes narrowed and he skewered her with a hard, flame-gold glare. "Nice! Safe!" He practically spat out the words.

As she looked at him, all wounded male pride and impossibly dear with it, her annoyance suddenly evaporated and her lips trembled as laughter threatened instead. It only made him scowl even more fiercely and she thought she might forgive him just about anything. "Oh, sweetheart!" she said, trying hard to contain her amusement. "Never nice and never safe then, if it makes you feel any better." The look on his face told her it didn't. She rushed on. "I mean, I thought you would be nicely and safely _gone…_ in the morning. Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen."

Her smile invited his agreement but Nuada was not inclined to be so generous. He recalled the words she'd said after he'd pulled her down into his lap, two nights ago. _No promises. Only this night._ At the time, it was all he'd wanted. Now though… "I see," he replied stiffly.

Laughter bubbled up and Elfraine could no longer restrain it. "Oh, for Heaven's sake!" she said, her face alight with amusement. "Don't go all missish on me! You surely don't expect me to believe you didn't think the same thing yourself!"

"It would be an impolite lover who admitted to such a thing… out loud, at least," he replied pointedly.

"Oh, so _now_ you chose to stand on your manners," she started to say, and then she halted as the barb struck home. "Oh!" she gasped softly. "Cut to the quick! As deadly with words as you are with sword and spear." She pursed her lips. "And, of course, right on the mark. I am _extremely_ lacking in finesse to say it out loud. I told you I wasn't very good at these things."

She was utterly perfect at 'these things', thought Nuada, his own unreasonable annoyance disappearing in an instant. He didn't know whether she had intended her words as a compliment or not but she'd just made neat work of soothing his… ruffled feathers. "You do well enough," he murmured as he caressed her with warm eyes and reached for her once more.

A touch of colour kissed her cheeks at his look, and her smile was one of clear delight as she let him pull her in close again. "Such _fulsome_ praise deserves a reward," she said teasingly. "I'll try to answer all your… _whys_ questions!"

"Wise?" His question – for it had really only been the one - hadn't struck him as wise at all, rather the opposite in fact. He frowned down at Elfraine… and then comprehension dawned, and he had to fight back the urge to make an impolite comment of his own, about her dreadful pun. She was leaning into him now, one hand resting on the flat plane of his stomach and her other arm hooked around his waist as she looked up at him expectantly. It was obvious she wanted a reaction of some sort. His lips quirked and he slowly shook his head, letting her know he was onto her game and wasn't going to play it. It seemed he had though; she gave him a satisfied smile and settled back to answer his questions.

"Why did I take you to my bed and why do I love you?" Her tone was light-hearted. "As to the first, I wanted you. You are the most fascinating person I've ever met - more so than Messrs Bach and Shakespeare put together."

"High praise, indeed," he said dryly.

"And you are the most beautiful man – elf – I've ever seen."

"I am the _only_ adult elven male you've ever seen," he reminded her.

"No, no. I can compare you now to Ælfweard and Cearul and one or two others."

He'd forgotten about them.

"You cast them all into the shade," she continued.

"Even Cearul?" She surprised the question out of him. In the old days, Cearul had been the one the women, both Fae and human, had swarmed to first, on account of his unmarked beauty.

"Especially Cearul. He's too… pretty. And he's not very talkative," she added darkly as she remembered the elf's less than confiding nature when she'd asked him about Nuada after the battle in the Troll Market.

"And you think I am?" She surprised him yet again.

"Yes," she replied. "You certainly keep me on my toes. I enjoy talking to you very much…" She paused and slid him a sly look. "Almost as much as I enjoy swiving you."

He was about to pinch her for that when a sobering thought occurred to him and he kept his hand where it was, on her hip. "Reşid," he said, before he could think the better of it. "He was the last before me."

Elfraine went still and was silent for a moment. "Yes, he was," she finally admitted, all hint of laughter gone now. "Though it was not on his account I never… lay with anyone else until you."

"Please, tell me... why then," Nuada said gently. She was quiet for so long that he thought she wasn't going to answer. However, just as he was about to beg her pardon for asking, she spoke.

"You and your 'whys'. Robert was a chore, Geoffrey too, and Reşid, well, he was what he was. In the end, none of them counted for anything. But in between Geoffrey and Reşid there was _Gretheved_, and he… he was everything I could have wanted... until he showed his true colours."

Nuada tightened his hold on her. He remembered how when they'd started reading the first of her diaries, the day before, she had told him she was ashamed she'd ever found pleasure in her third husband's arms. She'd also refused to let him read about her wedding night. He was beginning to think he might know why she'd been celibate for four hundred years.

"And he was the reason too, why I avoided men like the plague for four hundred years afterwards," she said, confirming Nuada's suspicion. "When I killed him, I thought that was it… the end of it all. But it wasn't, and not because he didn't stay dead."

"What do you mean?" asked Nuada carefully.

"I'll see if I can explain," she murmured. "About a hundred years ago, when I last passed this way… to see this little one…" She stopped and reached out to stroke Azenzêr's smooth, cold cheek. "I - I met someone - the medic I told you about when I stitched up your leg." Her hand trailed down to rest on Nuada's thigh, just below where he'd been wounded by the shadow creature's blade.

"I'd been in Greece, investigating tales of a mysterious object found some fifteen years earlier off the coast of Antikythera, an island in the Aegean Sea. I had hoped it might be useful in my own quest so I tracked it down to a museum in Athens. It was certainly interesting but it was also another dead-end as far as I was concerned."

Nuada recalled the assortment of navigational and astronomical instruments in her lodgings. They were obviously of interest to her.

"Anyway," she continued, "as I was in this part of the world, I thought I'd pay my respects to Dihyā and Azenzêr before I left. On my way here, I wound up on a hospital ship, just off the Gallipoli peninsula... It was 1915." She looked up and gave Nuada a tight smile, remembering his comment to her in the Troll Market about _the war to end all wars_. "You're aware of the significance of that year, I know."

Nuada inclined his head. It had been a time of great hope for him but though the carnage they'd visited upon themselves had been even more devastating than anything the Golden Army had ever wrought, the humans had survived and his hopes had come to nothing. However, in later years, when he'd had cause to pass through the old battlefields again, he had learnt one thing of use from that failed war. Though the earth might drown in oceans of human blood, gag on a surfeit of human flesh, choke on mountains of human bones yet it survived, it endured… it recovered.

Some ninety five years ago, he and Wink had stopped in the fields outside the Belgian town of Ypres. Until then, he had never thought the earth could be called ugly in any way but the efforts of man had finally succeeded in making it so. During the course of five battles fought over four years, the humans had so totally destroyed the surrounding countryside that there was no other word for it. The beautiful, living raiment of Nature reduced to a hideous, grotesque landscape of churned up earth and stinking mud… pockmarked with craters, stuffed full of the filthy, rotting remnants of death. The ever-industrious humans had made it a hellish, sickening place. They had even managed to silence the Song of the Land, and on that grey, autumn morning in the human year of 1918, as he stood in a dead, oozing landscape, there'd been no room in Nuada for even the fury which over the centuries had done so much to galvanise him in the face of overwhelming odds. Bleak, crushing despair had crowded out everything else that day.

But when he and Wink had returned to those fields, seventy five years later, he'd known a fierce satisfaction at the sight of green grass covering the trenches, craters and mounds… the beauty of Nature once more clothing the scarred landscape and erasing the ugliness which man had created.

He recalled now the words Nuala had said to him four years ago in the dark, shameful chamber which had served as the meeting place of the last Elven Court of Bethmoora… an old, abandoned _human_ workshop.

_B__ut our green fields cannot grow out of all that blood_, she had said.

_But they could_, he thought. He'd been too angry at her willingness to fade to make an argument of it at the time, and he didn't think it was an argument which would carry any weight with her now but he realised he had to try… though without brow-beating her in the process, if the insights he'd gained this morning were to count for anything. His lips twisted in a wry smile; his tasks were never easy.

"Bad memories of those times?" asked Elfraine gently, distracting him from his thoughts.

"And of more current times too," he murmured. "I am sorry, Lady. Your words set me on another path entirely. Please, continue."

She gave his hand on her hip a gentle squeeze and carried on with what she'd been saying. "I'd been sailing through the Dardanelles when my boat was hit by a shell and sunk. Stupid place to be, I know, what with all the fighting going on around Çanakkale, but it was the most direct route by sea from Athens and I thought I could sneak through. Had it all gone to plan, I would have anchored in the Sea of Marmara, somewhere off the Turkish coast, and then… _found_ a horse and ridden the rest of the way here. As it was, I was pulled out of the water by a detachment from an Australian regiment and taken to one of their hospital ships. She was anchored in a cove on the other side of the peninsula. The doctors checked me to make sure I was alright, likewise the officers – again, to make sure I was alright - and then they put me to work with the nurses once they'd decided I was a mad Englishwoman and not a Turkish spy."

"The demon had the right of it," murmured Nuada, thinking of Anung un Rama's comment in Manning's office several mornings ago.

"What?"

"You seem to have a remarkable ability for getting yourself into trouble," he remarked.

Elfraine gave a small laugh. "I prefer to blame the Fates. I think they have me in their sights… though they've gone a long way towards making up for it since they put _you_ in my path. Anyway, 1915 was when I met my medic and I got to know him quite well, though not as well as he would have liked. Then three weeks later he was dead, cut down by Turkish machine gun fire as the field ambulance put ashore to evacuate the wounded. That night, I slipped over the side of the ship and eventually managed to make my way here. And it was whilst I was sitting here, in this very spot, on a day much like today… that was when I finally realised that for all I'd carved Gretheved into tiny pieces three centuries earlier, his death, or his supposed death, hadn't been the end of it. I'd allowed him to exert his power over me even from beyond the grave. It had been so insidious I didn't even know it was happening… For three hundred years I'd lived my life as – as a response to him, I suppose."

"I – I don't know that I understand," said Nuada cautiously.

"It's not easy to explain," she admitted. "I told you yesterday that I stood apart from the rest of my kind because I'd only outlive anyone I ever got close to. "

"Yes?"

"Assuming I tried to live a normal life, how many families would I run through do you think? Watching them age and die all around me whilst I stayed the same. Husbands? I'd never want another one again but I could cope with burying any if I had to, and though I don't think I'd want to do it too often, I could probably cope with burying friends as well. But children… how many of them could I stand to lay in the earth? No, I think my reasons for not living such a life – such _lives_ – are still sound, and there is… there is Fortune too. But even so, I shouldn't have tried to cut myself off so completely from everything, not that I was ever entirely successful." She flashed him a brief smile. "Some people have a way of engaging you… of drawing you in, no matter what you think you want, or rather, _don't_ want."

She was such a person, Nuada realised as he looked down at her. She'd engaged him, drawn him in, and now, against all odds, she held his heart in her hands and he only wished he could give her everything of him. Three weeks ago, it would have been the last thing he'd have ever wanted to do…

"But when it came to men," continued Elfraine, "I had no trouble keeping them at arms' length. It was only after Alasdair, my medic… it was only after he died that I saw what I'd been doing… that I recognised the true extent of Gretheved's power over me." Her look became sombre once more. "From what I could tell - and I think I've become a better judge of character over the years – Alasdair was a good man, kind and compassionate, and we could have found some brief moments of happiness together but that vile piece of filth who was my third husband had so poisoned me that I – I just _couldn't_. By the time I had my flash of insight, it was too late… for Alasdair and I, at least."

"But you did finally manage to break free of Gretheved," said Nuada, understanding, at last, what she meant. He ignored the sudden flare of jealousy he felt for the late, lamented Alasdair. _Had she loved the human too_, he wondered. And then he decided he didn't want to know; she was here with him now and that was all that mattered.

"I did break free of Gretheved, but not straight away," she admitted. "It's one thing to know something with your head, and quite another to know it with your heart. My flash of insight was all very well and good but then I spent the next hundred years convincing myself that intimate entanglements were an unnecessary distraction from… from what I had to do." She gave him another smile. "It was what I told myself too when I realised I liked _you_ so much."

"And wanted to _swive_ me." Though he hadn't intended his comment as a jest, Elfraine laughed outright and he felt an unexpected burst of satisfaction at the sound of her amusement and the feel of her body trembling with mirth against his. She might not be able to call _him_ kind and compassionate but he could at least bring laughter to her lips and a sparkle to her eyes.

"And that too!" she agreed, still laughing as she tightened her arms around his waist and gave him a swift, fierce hug. "You were more than enough to tempt me out from behind the barricades." She smiled as she looked up at him. "There are many things I like about you, Nuada, but two nights ago the thing that… carried the night, I suppose, was the thought that I could trust you - that, and your honesty and consideration."

Her words dealt a heavy blow to his conscience and he didn't know what to say. He was neither as honest with her nor as trustworthy nor as considerate as she might think. Had he truly been all of that, he would have told her by now how he really felt about her.

"I love you for those things," she continued, "and I love you for your sense of honour and strength of character. You are a true champion of your people, and the best and brightest hope they could ever wish for. I think the path you've walked has often been a hard and lonely one but from what I can tell, you've never given up – never wavered – and though I'm no doubt presumptuous in thinking you might value my good opinion, you have it anyway… Golden Armies notwithstanding." She reached up and brushed the silken fall of his hair back from his face, her feelings shining clear in her soft, brown eyes. "You blaze like the sun, Nuada, and that's why I love you. How could I not turn my face to you?"

It was more than he could stand. With a groan, he tightened his hold on her and bent his head to hers. Dark lips slanted over her pale, pink mouth and she moaned softly, opening up to him as her eyelids fluttered shut. His tongue swept into her mouth and he closed his own eyes, giving himself over to sensual delight as he plundered her warm, velvet softness. She felt like Heaven and every touch of her lips, every gasp of her breath sent exquisite frissons of pleasure and longing shooting through every part of him.

His heart would no longer be silenced. Between kisses, he murmured against her lips... in High Elvish, the ancient tongue of his people. And in that timeless language of magic and beauty and light, with only the rocks and stones, the grass and trees, the gentle breeze and the warm sun and sky to know any part of what he was saying, Nuada gave Elfraine the words of love which belonged to her just as surely as his heart did.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Boukoleon Palace: a Byzantine palace in Constantinople, probably built 5th century AD. It was gradually abandoned by the imperial family from about 1260 onwards and by 1453 it stood in ruins. The palace had a small harbour on the southern shore of the peninsula, where the city is built.

Vizier: (Turkish - _vezir_) high-ranking political advisor or minister.

Reşid: (Turkish) masculine name.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

Historically, marital or spousal rape has been widely condoned or ignored, or even held to be an impossibility. See, for example, Sir Matthew Hale's legal treatise _History of the Pleas of the Crown_ (1736) where he argued that such a rape could not be recognised because of the nature of the marriage contract, i.e., the wife "hath given up herself in this kind unto her husband, which she cannot retract."

Azenzêr: (Amazigh – Berber) boy's name meaning 'sunray' or 'sunshine'.

The Antikythera mechanism: an ancient analogue device designed to predict astronomical positions. It was found in a shipwreck off Antikythera, a Greek island in the Aegean, in 1900 and dates from the early 1st century BC. Such technological complexity and workmanship is not seen again in the historical record until the advent of the Western European mechanical astronomical clocks built from the 14th century onwards. The Greek mechanism was comprised of at least 30 bronze gears, and was originally housed in a wooden box. Its true significance was not recognised until analysis with modern X-ray technology in the 1970s.

Gallipoli Campaign: aka the Dardanelles Campaign or the Battle of Çanakkale (25 April 1915 – 9 January 1916, during World War I). The campaign was a failed attempt by joint British/French forces to capture the Ottoman (Turkish) capital of Constantinople (Istanbul) and secure a sea route to Russia. There were heavy casualties on both sides. The campaign was considered one of the greatest victories of the Turks and a major failure of the Allies, and it resonated profoundly for all nations involved.

'The war to end all wars': a term for World War I, attributable to British author and social commentator H.G. Wells, and associated with US President Woodrow Wilson (1913 – 1921).

Ypres: Between October 1914 and October 1918, five battles were fought over or near this strategically important town in western Belgium. The third battle is more commonly known as the Battle of Passchendaele and the fourth battle as the Battle of the Lys or the Battle of Estaires. Total casualties exceeded 850,000.

For a brief account of Australian nurses' experiences at Gallipoli, including a mention of hospital ships, see the web page anzacsite . gov . au (delete the spaces) and search on 'nurses'.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Just wanted to say thank you too for the lovely reviews since the last chapter.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI :)


	53. Chapter 52

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Chapter 52**

When they finally pulled apart, Nuada saw that Elfraine had tears in her eyes and he was confused for a moment.

"Oh!" she gasped. "That - that was the most beautiful - "

Suddenly, it was as if the ground had just opened up beneath him; he was certain she'd told him she had never heard the language of his people before - when he'd first discovered the dragons at her lodgings. Surely he hadn't just now unwittingly betrayed everything he'd ever stood for. But then again, hadn't he already done that anyway…

Elfraine buried her face against his broad shoulder as she tried to compose herself. What he must think of her and her tears! She had cried earlier when he'd made love to her and she was crying now when all he'd done was kiss her. Her voice was muffled and choked with emotion as she spoke. "I don't know what you said but I have _never_ been kissed like that… not in my whole life."

A feeling of relief swamped Nuada; it was short-lived.

She lifted her head and looked up at him, her eyes still bright and her expression aching. He suspected his was too.

"What – what did you say?" she asked.

He closed his own eyes for a brief moment; he should have anticipated the question. Drawing a deep breath, he prepared to lie through his teeth. "I – I said I do not deserve your love, not even the smallest part of it." That much was at least true.

"Oh!" She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. "Well, it's mine to give and as you know, I've given it to you… even though you don't want it." A strained smile flitted across her face as she sought to soften the words. That last part had come out all wrong; it sounded almost bitter.

Nuada couldn't fault her for the implicit rebuke, and every muscle in his body tensed as he fought the urge to chase away the unhappiness lurking in the depths of her eyes by telling her again of how he really felt - this time in words she could understand.

"And I said you were beautiful," he blurted out. That was true enough too; in between his words of love, he'd also told her of her beauty – of face and form, certainly, and of mind and spirit too. He'd been able to tell her all of this, and more, in the language of his people, and he was painfully aware that he cheated her now with his brief, bare summation in her own language.

"How… _nice_."

His brow creased; there it was again, that word! Only this time, it was well and truly deserved. She had told him, amongst other things, that he blazed like the sun and all he could manage in return was something bland by comparison. But to tell her in her own language all the ways in which he thought she was beautiful would be to give himself away entirely and he just couldn't do that. All that was left to him was sit there with no idea of what to say next, feeling like a clumsy, callow youth. He was beginning to think that _he_ was the one who was no good at 'these things'.

Elfraine came to his rescue, and not for the first time that night. Her eyes flitted to the dead baby in his arms and she reminded herself that there were worse things in the world than a love not returned. It was past time to focus on their whole reason for being here and she vowed there would be no more distractions. "I had best get on with Azenzêr's story. Director Manning wants us in the Briefing Room at nine o'clock sharp."

A swift, low curse from Nuada told her what he thought of Manning's order.

"Forgive me, Lady," he said.

"There's nothing to forgive," she assured him. "You only said what I was thinking. The poor Director certainly knows how to make himself disagreeable." As she spoke, she took note of the position of the sun above the horizon and did a quick calculation. "We've probably got another seven or eight hours before our presence is required back in New Jersey."

Nuada glanced towards the warm, yellow orb. "Closer to eight," he said.

"It – it won't take long to tell you your son's tale." There was a note of sadness in her voice now. "I met him on my second day in Constantinople. It was he who brought me to my senses and made me realise I wasn't in Hell." She reached out and touched Azenzêr's cold, still form once more.

"How…"

"After all, what could a _baby_ possibly have done to deserve a place there?" she continued. "Someone so small, so helpless… so new. They surely didn't have babies - or children - in Hell, no matter what Mathias Coffyn said."

"Mathias Coffyn?" Nuada frowned; the name seemed familiar.

"The Reverend, from the village near Miles Cross," replied Elfraine.

Nuada's brow cleared as he remembered why he knew the name; she'd mentioned the man in her first diary.

"Reverend Coffyn was of the firm belief that should an infant die unbaptised, the child's soul was forfeit to the Devil. He was also fond of reminding parents that God would visit the iniquities of the father – or mother – upon the child and, of course, all adults were riddled with sin in some way or another so there was no escaping it," she explained. "His Heaven must have been a very empty, lonely sort of a place. Anyway, early the next morning I found myself lost in the maze of halls in the women's quarters. They – they were strangely beautiful for Hell and I started to wonder what on earth was happening. The best I could come up with was that it was some sort of trick… to put me off guard. It seemed the sort of thing the Devil might do."

"And not only Devils," murmured Nuada as a memory from the past suddenly stirred at her words.

"N-no, I suppose not," she agreed, not at all certain what he meant. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask when she remembered her vow to focus on her story and so she didn't question him further. "I'd just turned down one corridor when I heard a baby crying."

"Azenzêr!" Nuada looked down at his son's body.

"Yes." Her eyes were touched by shadows as she stared up at Nuada. "I followed the sound and it wasn't long before I found him. He – He…" She stopped.

Nuada's gaze sliced to her face. "What?"

"He was all alone in a small room, lying in his own filth and starving," she said bluntly; there was no easy way of putting it.

"No!" exclaimed Nuada. "Dihyā would never…"

"She didn't," Elfraine quickly told him. "The poor wee mite was one of the means by which Reşid ensured her obedience, and the wet nurse who'd been charged with looking after Azenzêr was absolutely terrified of both Dihyā and her baby – more so than she was of her master and _his_ wrath. She feared going anywhere near Azenzêr and barely managed to do what was necessary to keep him from dying. Everything else was neglected. The other women in the harem were scared of him too and kept well away. They – they thought him evil… because he wasn't human."

Nuada looked down at his son again, aghast. "How could _anyone_… You!" His gaze swung back to Elfraine. "What…" He fell silent; he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his question.

She answered it anyway. "When I think on it now, I'm surprised I wasn't scared of him too – given my other ridiculous ideas." Her smile was more of a grimace. "But before I'd even seen him, I heard the hunger in his voice and for a moment it was as if I was back at Miles Cross – in the early years, after news of Geoffrey's death had reached me - and it was Fortune crying from want. Azenzêr had my heart in that instant and no matter how - how strange he appeared to me when I found him a little while later, he was first and foremost a hungry baby and I couldn't turn away from him."

Nuada silently thanked the Gods that someone had put his son's needs first.

"I also couldn't feed him," continued Elfraine. "It had been a good four years since I'd weaned Fortune. He was only a newborn – not even a month old as I later found out."

"What did you do then?" A frown creased Nuada's brow. She'd obviously managed to find some solution; judging by his size, the baby had been older than a month when he'd… Nuada couldn't finish the thought.

"I cleaned him up as best I could and then took him with me whilst I went in search of someone who could help," Elfraine replied. "I was fairly certain by then that I wasn't in Hell but I didn't know where I was – or what I was. I didn't even know whether I was dead or alive. It – it was like a nightmare but Azenzêr gave me something to think about other than my own plight… which was impossible to understand anyway. I eventually wandered into the baths and that was where I discovered most of the other women and slaves of the harem, and many of the younger children."

"Dihyā?"

"No, she was not there. She was not a harem slave."

"What – where was she?"

"She had special quarters, well away from Azenzêr," explained Elfraine. "Reşid valued her for her skill in the art of magic and also for her fighting skills. And he felt the need to keep her on a short leash at all times. Though he had bound her, he was terrified of her and was always careful in his dealings with her."

"_How_ did he bind her?" Nuada still found it difficult to believe that such a thing had ever happened. Although it was not impossible to bind a djinni, it was a rare enough thing to happen and that it had happened to one as powerful as Dihyā…

"I got the impression she had been betrayed – by one of her kinsfolk," said Elfraine.

He pounced on her words. "Who?"

Elfraine shook her head. "She never said. All she told me was that someone had given Reşid both her name and a lock of hair from her head so he could make the talisman with which to bind her. He or she had also given him a binding spell to use."

Nuada frowned as he tried to think who amongst Dihyā's people could have betrayed her in such a fashion. He'd known them all well and not one of them stood out in his mind as being capable of it or indeed, as having any possible reason to do such a thing. And then there was the Jiniri herself. "I still do not understand," he said. "Even having all that, it would not have been an easy thing for a _human_ to do. Dihyā's power was too great…"

"Oh sweetheart!" exclaimed Elfraine softly. "Reşid did it when she was at her most vulnerable… just – just before she gave birth to Azenzêr."

Nuada stared at his son's body with unseeing eyes and was silent for a long moment. "I - I should have been there," he said at last. The words caught in his throat.

"You didn't know," she reminded him gently.

"I _should_ have known." There was a bitter note in his voice. "_Everyone_, everything I have ever touched, ever loved…"

"Nuada, she didn't _want_ you to know," broke in Elfraine. "At least, not until after it was a fait accompli."

"What do you mean?" His tone was fierce now.

Elfraine winced; she had raised the very thing she'd hoped to avoid but she couldn't stand to see him shoulder any part of the blame.

"Well?"

"Dihyā… after we'd become friends, she told me that her baby's father – you – didn't want children until after the world had been made a safer place for your kind, a place where your children would have a future."

"I know all of this. We had discussed it on more than one occasion."

Elfraine hesitated to go on; he was like a tightly wound spring next to her but the truth was all he had left and so she forced herself to continue, not that he would have allowed her to get away with anything less. "Dihyā told me she couldn't wait any longer and so she – she took matters into her own hands."

"You mean to say she deliberately…" His disbelief was clear - his anger too - and Elfraine's silence was all the answer he needed. "But she _knew_ how I felt! Why would she do that?"

Elfraine took a deep breath before she answered. "Sometimes the desire for a child outweighs everything else and you are caught in the grip of an urge so powerful, so all-consuming that – that nothing else matters… _nothing_ at all, and you would do anything to bring about a new life. You can't blame Dihyā for that."

Nuada got the feeling she was not only talking about Dihyā; her words made little difference.

"What she wanted was the most natural thing on Earth," Elfraine continued, "and there was only one person to blame for it all going wrong… _Re__şid_. Not Dihyā and _not _you! Would…" She stopped short.

"What!" The word was like chipped ice.

She drew a deep breath. "Would you wish your son out of existence just because…"

"No!" exclaimed Nuada fiercely. "No, I would not!" His voice dropped. "I – I wish he was still alive."

Elfraine hugged him. "I'm sorry, love," she said quietly. "It was not a fair question. I know you'd give anything to have him back now."

Nuada felt the sudden, unfamiliar prick of tears in his eyes and fought them down. "How did you manage to feed him?" he asked abruptly.

"Oh," said Elfraine on a sigh. "What happened next was… unexpected, and that's saying something, given how unexpected _everything_ was. My appearance in the baths, with Azenzêr in my arms, caused a great deal of panic. There was a lot of shrieking and crying – it was so loud, it frightened the poor baby and made _him_ cry again. Everyone fled the water. I was at the only entrance to the place and they all tried to fit into the furthest corner of the room, away from me."

"Away from my son, you mean," said Nuada, correctly guessing the reason for the women's hysteria.

"Yes," admitted Elfraine, "away from him. It all seemed like a bad dream. I had never before seen so much naked flesh… and then the eunuchs came running, certain that a man had made his way into the harem. The sight of them had me back to thinking I was in Hell but when they saw it was only Azenzêr and I who were causing the outcry, they simply turned their backs and left. As I've said, I had no idea what was happening. I was totally confused and more than a little bit frightened myself.

"Some of the women had recovered their wits by now and started towards me. I begged them for a nurse for the baby, but of course, they couldn't understand a word I said. And then just as I'd begun to despair, one woman stepped forward from the group and answered me in English, with an Irish accent! I later learned she'd been called Brigid for most of her life but had been known as Sahiba ever since she'd been kidnapped during a Corsair raid on her village some five years earlier. She said she'd never thought she'd be glad of the sight of an Englishwoman. I was so startled I couldn't speak; it had been a month or more since I'd heard my own tongue and I couldn't believe I was hearing it now. Before I could make a reply, she addressed one of the younger women – harshly, and in the language of the devils, or rather, pirates. Yeshim, the younger woman, cowered down but Sahiba grabbed her by the arm and dragged her over to me. It turned out Yeshim was the wet nurse who'd been assigned to Azenzêr."

"She fed him then?" asked Nuada.

"N-no, not right away," replied Elfraine hesitantly. "Sahiba said she'd talk with me later. She then wished me luck in trying to persuade the young woman to do her duty, and left the baths. The other women were quick to gather up their own children – Reşid's children - and follow her. Azenzêr and I were left alone with Yeshim."

"How did you convince her to feed him?"

"I, um, I tried to make her understand with gestures and when she still refused, I…" Elfraine glanced away. "I slapped her and pinched her… pulled her hair too. I made her cry and… and I kept it up until she finally did as I wished. It didn't take long; she didn't put up much of a fight."

"I would have done more than that to her," muttered Nuada viciously.

"No, you would not have." Elfraine looked up at him once more, her eyes troubled. "And for my part, I wish I'd been kinder to her that day."

"What?" He was surprised at her words. "She let my son starve! What kindness did _she_ deserve?"

"She deserved every kindness in the world even despite of her treatment of Azenzêr."

"No!"

Elfraine thought it was a good thing she was immortal; his fiery glare might have incinerated her otherwise. "Reşid seized her from her husband's family the very day he bound Dihyā," she explained. "Yeshim was chosen because she was about to give birth herself and could wet-nurse Dihyā's child. The vizier planned all along to separate Dihyā from her baby and when Yeshim gave birth that night – to a wee girl - Reşid let her suckle her child, to help bring her milk on. When - when Dihyā gave birth just over a day later…" Elfraine stopped.

A cold feeling settled in the pit of Nuada's stomach and put a damper on his anger. He could hazard a guess as to what was coming next. Staring down at his son, lying cold and dead in the crook of his arm, he forced the question. "What happened?"

"Yeshim was made to drown her own baby in a trough by the stables. She – she wouldn't give up her child and so one of the guards grabbed hold of her and pushed her whole upper body, baby and all, into the water. She came up gasping for air; her baby didn't. The guard then ripped the poor wee girl's body out of her mother's arms and threw it into the harbour, behind the palace."

Nuada continued to stare at Azenzêr. He could count on the fingers of one hand all the times in his four thousand years' of life that he'd felt pity for a human and he knew he should fight against the feeling which rose in his breast now; after all, pity for the enemy - even for one who could no longer possibly be a threat - was not something he could afford, as he'd learnt to his cost. But that long-dead woman had done his son a service, however unwillingly, and the least he could do was acknowledge the terrible price she'd been forced to pay. He'd paid a similar price, he realised, albeit it unknowingly at the time. His eyes swung back to Elfraine. And she'd paid the same price too though to a different man.

"Even though Yeshim could have fed her own child and Dihyā's as well, Reşid didn't want her to have any _unnecessary_ distractions," Elfraine continued. "She was only seventeen years old and had been loved by her family, and then by her husband and his family. She had never met anyone like Reşid. When she told me her story later…" Elfraine stopped and shook her head. "It didn't excuse letting Azenzêr starve and in respect of my treatment of her, I suppose I could use the excuse I feared for his life but I – I just wish I'd been kinder to her that first time we met. We were all the same, all of us in that detestable place. Women, whose bodies were there to be used one way or another in the service of a man… and babies whose little lives counted for nothing, especially if they weren't _his_ children." She rested her hand on Azenzêr's small, stone chest and fell silent.

Nuada knew her own daughter was not far from her mind. He cleared his throat before speaking. "You – you said Azenzêr charmed all the women in the seraglio. How… if they were so scared of him…"

She shot him a wry look as she replied. "I soon realised harem politics were much the same as those in the courts of Elizabeth and James. It was a game I was well used to. I made an ally of Sahiba, who over her five years there had risen to a position of some influence, and I made sure we were closely involved in the day-to-day life of the other women. I think they eventually got sick of gathering up their own children and fleeing the room whenever Azenzêr and I wandered in. Tolerating our presence was probably the easier path to take. They were very indolent though that was hardly their fault. If it hadn't been for Azenzêr, I would have had nothing to do… when Reşid wasn't _experimenting_ on me, that is. To think of spending your _whole_ life in such a place…"

Nuada felt a light tremor run through her frame.

"Within three weeks, they more than tolerated him," she continued. "They were absolutely fascinated by him. He could do so much more than the other three or four babies who were of a similar age and once he was properly fed and cared for, he smiled and laughed more often than not."

Nuada seized onto her words. "He was happy then?"

"Yes, he was a happy baby. He obviously had no claim on Reşid and so posed no threat to the kadins' sons. Once they got used to him, the other women could afford to be charmed by him. He had the most astonishing eyes – gleaming silver – and his hair… well, it was just like yours though there was not so much of it." She glanced up at him. "He was like you in other ways too - in the things he did."

Nuada looked at her dubiously. "How can you say that? Babies…" He stopped and frowned. "They don't seem to _do_ very much." He knew he was betraying his inexperience.

Elfraine bit back a smile. "They are their own distinct, little people from the day they are born," she replied, "and if you watch them closely enough, you soon learn that. This young one was scooting circles around the other babies by the time he was five months old."

Nuada's frown deepened. "Scooting circles… I don't understand."

"The other babies had only just started to sit up. Most of the time, they fell over after only a few moments. Azenzêr, on the other hand, could sit properly by the time he was four months old and he quickly learnt to shuffle around on his bottom, using his hands to support himself. He had an amazing sense of balance - just like you, and like Dihyā too. Once he could sit up, there was no stopping him."

Nuada felt a burst of pride at her words but it was quickly swamped by a biting sadness. There was so much he could have – would have - taught the boy. The greatest loss was not his though; it was his son's. Azenzêr's existence had been but a fleeting spark and now he would never realise his true potential, never experience the fullness of life. Never know sadness, pain and despair, true, but also never know happiness or – or _love_. Nuada gazed down at the top of Elfraine's head.

"And he was just as proficient in water," said Elfraine, breaking in on his thoughts. "Bath time was his favourite time. I'll admit that was one thing in the harem's favour – the baths were more like a swimming pool. It was lovely. I'd get in with Azenzêr and float him on his tummy. He'd kick and splash, and laugh – especially when he got water in someone else's face. He was not nearly so pleased when it was his own. And he'd wriggle like mad too. It was like trying to hold onto a fish."

Elfraine's words cut Nuada like a knife. He could picture the scene in his mind and wanted nothing more than to have been there, taking part in their play. The cold, stone form he held in his arm was no substitute for the real thing. It was more than he could bear. "When – when did you meet Dihyā?" he asked abruptly.

Elfraine heard the strained note in his voice and felt the tension in him. Though he'd said he wanted to learn everything he could about his son's brief life, even her happier tales of the little boy were a two-edged sword. She knew it was hard on Nuada; some of her own most treasured memories of Fortune were the ones she least liked to dwell on because of the overwhelming anguish and regret that invariably accompanied them.

"I met Dihyā about three weeks later," she replied quietly. "It – it was the first visit Reşid had allowed her with her son since she'd given birth."

Nuada's arm tightened reflexively around Elfraine's waist as a surge of anger sliced through him. He remembered how only the day before, when they'd been reading her diaries, she'd lamented the fact that Gretheved had separated her from her own child. Divide and rule: it was a tactic he'd used in the past himself, though never with mother and infant, and it seemed it was coming back to haunt him now in the worst way possible.

"She was under heavy guard," Elfraine continued, "and he accompanied her himself, with the talisman, to make sure she didn't try and escape with Azenzêr. It was a measure, I think, of how tenuous he felt his hold over her was. She wasn't allowed to touch her baby that first time – only look at him."

Nuada's heart twisted for his former lover. Even though she had ignored his wishes, she didn't deserve any of what had followed. "She – she must have been glad to find her son – _our_ son - was being cared for, at least," he ventured hesitantly. He knew full well what Dihyā's reaction would have been.

Elfraine gave a mirthless laugh. "She was furious! And though I couldn't understand anything she said, it was obvious she hated me on sight!"

Nuada said nothing; it was what he'd expected.

"I wasn't very impressed with her either," admitted Elfraine. "Dihyā was a fierce, formidable presence to say the least… which you would surely know." She tilted her head to look up at him and immediately wished she hadn't. She would rather not have seen the poignant expression of remembrance that flitted across his face. It was shallow of her, she knew, but she couldn't help the flare of jealousy, and rushed on. "I didn't realise she was Azenzêr's mother at first, and I was terrified of her. I – I thought she meant him harm, and I was certain she meant me harm. But then I paid proper attention to her and the look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. She was utterly devastated. Reşid only allowed her five minutes that first time and then he took her away. Afterwards, I sought out Sahiba and she told me what she knew of Dihyā's story."

"You hadn't asked before then?" exclaimed Nuada, surprised.

A small frown flitted across Elfraine's face. "Please, don't think badly of me…" she started to say.

"I never would!" he interrupted.

"Really?" she asked dryly.

His cheeks flushed dark gold as he recalled his first impression of her. "Not now that I know you better," he added.

She gave him a tight smile before continuing. "I hadn't asked about Azenzêr's mother before because I thought if I did, she – she might show up and take him away from me."

Her words brought Nuada up short. "I – I see," he murmured.

"It was selfish of me, I know, but he… I had started to think of him as mine." She lowered her eyes, awaiting his condemnation.

He was silent for a long moment, and then he spoke. "And to think you humans used to believe that elves would steal _your_ babies if we could… though why you'd think an elf would ever want a human child is beyond me."

Elfraine's gaze flew back to his. She was startled by his reference to one of the old beliefs and didn't know what to make of it. His words could most certainly be considered a rebuke of sorts but he didn't actually _sound_ angry.

Despite his best efforts, the corner of Nuada's mouth lifted and he had a definite gleam in his eye as he took in her confusion. Unable to help himself, he leaned down and planted a swift kiss on her lips.

A suspicion started to form in Elfraine's mind as he lifted his head. "You – you aren't by any chance _teasing_ me, are you?"

"If I was, it would only be going some small way towards evening up the score," he said.

It was neither a confirmation nor a denial but his look gave him away. He _was_ teasing her!

"Oh!" Her own eyes lit up and she hit back. "It's said _you elves_ would steal human babies – and adults too - on account of our great beauty!"

Nuada nearly choked.

"And our wondrous singing voices!"

It occurred to him he was never going to even the score with her when it came to teasing. He was probably a fool for even thinking he could.

Elfraine was in full flight now. "And…"

"Enough!"

She paused briefly at his command but was quite obviously going to finish her sentence anyway, and so not having a free hand, he kissed her again to put an end to her absurdity.

"W-well, you did ask," she pointed out breathlessly when he'd finished. She couldn't quite stifle the laughter in her voice.

Looking down into her upturned face, Nuada thought that if there was any human he was going to steal, it would be her. His expression grew serious once more. "I don't think badly of you, Elfraine. You have my deepest gratitude for so selflessly loving my son and caring for him when Dihyā couldn't."

"He was easy to love, Nuada, but my care for him was not entirely free from self-interest," she confessed, her gaze falling before the intensity of his. "I was desperate for an anchor in those strange, early days of immortality, and I needed Azenzêr as much as he needed me."

"I know," he replied, "but do not underrate your efforts. And…" He looked away himself, fearing he would reveal too much of his own feelings. "And you gave him a great gift in your love."

Elfraine stared up in silence at his chiselled profile. Did he think her love for _him_ a gift? One moment she got the feeling he did and then in the next… She shook her head; she would really have to stop seizing on his words and trying to find evidence of that which she so desperately hoped for.

"A-after Dihyā had left," she said, concentrating on Azenzêr's story once more, "I couldn't stop thinking about her. It seemed to me that I must stand to her as Allison Gross had stood to me at Blackstone Castle and that… well, I didn't like the thought of that."

"The witch," murmured Nuada, recognising the name. He would have liked to know more about that mysterious woman. For all that she'd stuffed Elfraine's head full of nonsense in some respects, she'd been right on the mark when it came to finding a dragon. She'd obviously known something that no one else had… a secret that neither himself nor his sister, nor even Balor had known.

"Yes, the witch," said Elfraine, breaking in on his thoughts. "An interloper, and the usurper of my child's time and attention."

Nuada set aside his questions about the witch and focused on Elfraine's words again.

"I became obsessed with the need to find Dihyā and speak to her – to explain to her I _wasn't_ like that," she said. "And where there's a will, there's a way. Reşid might have thought he had his women well-secured but he was wrong. A few of the eunuchs were open to bribery and it was easy enough to get in and out of our quarters at night, when the rest of the palace was asleep and the right guards were on duty. Everyone involved ran a great risk – sometimes one of the women would use the knowledge of a rival's transgressions to further her own prospects with, of course, dire consequences for the rival, and her child if she had one – but I suppose the benefits outweighed the risks. Anyway, within a week of first meeting her, I found myself outside the door to Dihyā's quarters, at midnight one night, and after a – a shaky start, she listened to me."

"Shaky start?" queried Nuada.

"She tried to cut me in two with the Varangian sword she'd won in battle some four hundred years earlier - succeeded actually, but I didn't stay cut in two for very long."

"Ah," he murmured. "I see."

"Exactly," agreed Elfraine. "She was inclined to listen to me after that."

A wry smile twisted his lips. "I suppose she would have been. I know the sword you speak of. I was there the day she won it. It – it was the day I first met her."

"Oh! She told me about that day, after we'd become friends," Elfraine said. "She said her – her Elven warrior and his companion – _Mağara adamı_, she called him. A great, terrifying troll…"

"Mr. Wink," broke in Nuada.

"The one who stitched you up! So _that_ was him!"

"It was indeed."

"I would like to have met him," said Elfraine a little wistfully. "From what Dihyā told me about him, he sounded like quite a character."

"He was most certainly that," agreed Nuada. "And I imagine she had plenty to tell you too. It pleased me greatly that he and Dihyā soon became good friends. Not all of my lovers were inclined to think well of him."

A sudden feeling of pique took Elfraine by surprise, whether at finding out that Dihyā and Mr. Wink had gotten on so well or at the mention of Nuada's other lovers, she didn't know. She tamped down the unreasonable feeling. "Dihyā said you and he lent her tribe a hand against a detachment of the Byzantine Emperor's Varangian Guard which had attacked them."

"We did," said Nuada. "It was a hard fight but we won in the end. Dihyā cut down one of the Guardsmen and claimed his weapon by right of victory."

Jealously swiftly replaced pique now. "You - you must miss her," Elfraine stammered, trying to ignore the sting Nuada's words and tone caused her. The pride and admiration in his voice as he talked about his former lover were clear for anyone to hear. But though she thought she had succeeded in hiding her petty feelings from him, she was obviously mistaken because Nuada stared down at her for a long, uncomfortable moment, his expression inscrutable. She coloured under his sharp, golden gaze and was about to say something - _anything - _when he spoke.

"Dihyā will always have a piece of my heart."

Elfraine's own heart twisted at his words.

"But I mourned her a long time ago," he continued.

Her jealousy relaxed its grip a little, and she immediately felt small for being envious of her dead friend in the first place.

"Tell me the rest of her story, _mhuirnín_, and let me lay her memory to rest once and for all." It was as much as he could say, skirting about the edges of an admission which his honour and sense of duty would not let him make.

Elfraine shot him an uncertain look. Though her heart was glad of his words, they did not sit well with her conscience and as if that wasn't enough to grapple with, she realised she was probably reading too much into them anyway - yet again.

"And Azenzêr's memory too, or at least the knowledge of his life and - and death," added Nuada.

That jolted her out of her confusion and as she stared up at him, she was caught in the grip of an aching mix of sadness and compassion. She didn't have the heart to tell him that when it came to your children some things could never be laid to rest. It was something he would find out for himself in the fullness of time.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Azenzêr: (Amazigh – Berber) boy's name meaning 'sunray' or 'sunshine'.

The time difference between Turkey and the east coast of the United States is seven hours.

"Thou shalt not bow downe thy selfe to them, nor serue them: For I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquitie of the fathers vpon the children, vnto the thirde and fourth generation of them that hate me:" Exodus 20:5 (_1611 King James Version_).

Reşid: (Turkish) masculine name.

For a discussion on slavery in the Ottoman Empire, see Y. Hakan Erdem, _Slavery in the Ottoman Empire and its Demise. 1800 – 1909._ St. Antony's Series (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1996).

Dihyā al-Kāhinat: O/C inspired by and based (very) loosely on Daya Ult Yenfaq Tajrawt (c. early 7th century AD – c. late 7th century AD). A Berber religious and military leader who led indigenous resistance to Arab expansion in Northwest Africa. Al-Kāhinat (the female priestess-soothsayer) was the nickname used by her opponents because of her reputed ability to foresee the future.

Jiniri: female Djinni. (Djinn: Arabic spirits, or genies, who inhabit an unseen world in dimensions beyond the human world in Islamic mythology. The djinn, humans and angels make up the three sentient creations of God. The Koran mentions that djinn are made of a smokeless and scorching fire, and they have the physical property of weight. Like human beings, the djinn can also be good, evil, or neutrally benevolent. _s._ djinni; _pl._ djinn.)

Sahiba: (Turkish) female name meaning 'charming, pleasant, beautiful'.

Yeshim: (Turkish) female name meaning 'most beautiful'.

Kadins: (Turkish – woman/wife) the highest ranking concubines, usually up to four in a harem.

Elves stealing human babies: refers to the medieval myth of the 'changling' – the offspring of an elf or other legendary creature left in the place of a human baby. Elves and faeries were thought to be attracted to human beauty, especially beauty in human children. In some parts of the British Isles, it was believed that elves could spirit away children and even adults, taking them back to their own world, Elfhame.

Mağara adamı: (Turkish) cave dweller.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your feedback is much appreciated :)  
>Cheers!<br>ESSI :)


	54. Chapter 53

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Chapter 53**

Suddenly, Elfraine wanted nothing more than for the story to be over and done with. Recounting her memories of those days had not been easy and now she had almost reached the worst part of all. Taking a deep breath, she carried on. "After we'd gotten the _preliminaries_ out of the way, Dihyā and I talked. I was surprised to find she could speak my language, which was just as well. I only knew a few Turkish words and phrases at that stage and not a word of Djinn."

"It must have been an interesting conversation," murmured Nuada, recalling _his_ exchange with Elfraine after discovering the cabalus hadn't in fact killed her.

"Interesting, yes, but not nearly so long as we would have liked. The guard was due to change within the hour and I had to be back in the harem before then. I'd had trouble settling Azenzêr down that night and was unable to get away any sooner. Sahiba had told me Yeshim's story by then and I didn't like to ask the poor woman to do any more than was necessary. As it was, I'd had to get her to mind him whilst I was gone."

"There would have been no shortage of willing helpers had he been with his own kind." _Where he should have been_, Nuada added silently as he stared at his son's body.

"No, I'm sure there wouldn't have been," agreed Elfraine. "That first night, Dihyā and I only had time to exchange the bare facts of our situations and talk briefly about Azenzêr. I was able to tell her he was happy and well, and being properly looked after. We made arrangements to meet again the next night and she gave me some of her jewellery with which to bribe the guards. Sahiba had lent me the bribe for that first night and I had to repay her too."

_Another long-dead human who had helped in a way then_, thought Nuada to himself.

"After that, I visited Dihyā most nights. We shared our stories and found we had more in common than either of us would ever have wished." Elfraine glanced up at Nuada. "Once she'd heard my story, it was Dihyā who explained what had likely happened to me though she had no idea why the dragon might have done such a thing."

"If anyone were to know, it would have been Dihyā. Her gift of prophesy was a rare one. As well as being able to divine the future, she was often able to discover the secrets of the past."

"I know," replied Elfraine. "She told me of her powers. It grieved her that she hadn't foreseen her own misfortune – or his."

Nuada watched as her fingers lightly skimmed his son's curled up little fists. "Not – not all things can be known and seers are rarely given visions of their own fates," he said.

"More's the pity." Elfraine's fingers stilled. "By the end of the first week, we'd agreed I would bring Azenzêr with me on my next visit, if I could."

Nuada's head shot round at that. He'd never been one to hesitate simply because something was dangerous but to think of the risk Dihyā and Elfraine had taken gave him pause now.

Elfraine read his look aright. "We took a great chance, I know, but how could we not do it? I _knew_ what she must be feeling and she… she just wanted her baby."

Nuada heard the defensive note in her voice. "I cannot find fault with either of you," he said. "How could I when I would do anything for even five minutes with him?"

Elfraine shook her head. "We thought we could get away with it. The first visit went well enough, and the one after that and then the next one again. We soon fell into a routine…" Her voice trailed off into silence.

"And grew complacent," he finished flatly.

"Yes. We grew complacent," she admitted. "We carried on like that for maybe five months. It all came to seem so normal."

"As routines do."

Elfraine inclined her head in agreement. "During that time, I learnt the language and Dihyā taught me how to fight - how to use a sword."

"You could have had no better teacher," he said.

"Oh?" she asked with a small smile. "I got the impression there could be no better teacher than _you_ though your sister and I never got the chance to find that out for ourselves."

Nuada frowned for a moment and then remembered their exchange in the storeroom at the BPRD some three days earlier when he'd discovered Elfraine herself training Nuala in the art of swordplay. His eyes narrowed. "I will see that the pair of you get that chance soon enough," he promised.

"I'm sure you will," she said. "I can't speak for your sister, but I'll gladly take any instruction you care to give."

He arched his brow at that. "You seem to have changed your tune, my Lady. That is not the impression you gave the other day."

"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind and besides, you've risen a notch or two in my estimation these last few days, as you well know."

_As you have in mine_, he thought. His eyes grew warm as he stared down into her upturned face. "I will _enjoy_ giving you instruction, Elfraine."

That surprised a laugh out of her. "You'd better not enjoy it too much, Nuada. After all, your sister will be there."

"Yes, but she will return to Abraham and then I can enjoy it as much as I like… and I'll make sure you do too." That was as much as he meant to say but his next thought was out before he could stop it. "By the Gods but this is better than any sad tale from the past!"

Elfraine's smile vanished and she raised her hand to his chest. His thoughts mirrored hers exactly. "Oh, sweetheart. I'd rather talk about almost anything else in the world too but the tale has to be told."

His arm tightened around her waist and he pulled her in close as he drew a deep breath. "I know, Lady. Please, continue."

She took up her story once more. "Our thoughts eventually turned to escape and we started to make our plans. Dihyā described the talisman to me and it was my task to make a replica. She would find out where Reşid kept the real one when he slept, and then I would find some way of swapping them one night. Apparently, it was not something she could do herself."

"No," said Nuada. "She would not have been able to break the binding spell unless the talisman was given to her freely. Whether or not the maker of the gift had come by it legitimately would not have mattered."

"She said as much. Anyway, once she had freed herself from Reşid's hold, we would get Azenzêr and Yeshim and flee the palace. She would forego her revenge on Reşid for the moment… for Azenzêr's sake – so we could get him away safely."

"I take it there were still some details to be worked out," said Nuada, immediately seeing the holes in their plan.

"One or two," admitted Elfraine. "If anything went wrong, we would fight our way out."

"And Azenzêr?"

"Yeshim would take him, and Dihyā and I would cover them."

Nuada was silent for a moment. "If you had been able to get the talisman back, your plan would have worked. Dihyā would have been free to use the full measure of her powers against your foes. What went wrong?"

Elfraine gave a sigh. "I don't know exactly. Reşid somehow found out about our plans and – and that was when everything fell to pieces. I have no idea who betrayed us. We were so careful not to let anyone know what we were up."

"Could it have been the woman, Yeshim?" asked Nuada, his voice hard.

"No. She was as desperate as we were to get out of that place and her devastation when we were discovered was real enough." Elfraine had a catch in her voice now and found herself perilously close to tears once more. "Once her usefulness to Reşid was at an end, he had her put to death. She was killed on the spot."

A lump of ice settled in Nuada's chest. "If her usefulness to him was at an end then that – that meant…" Though he knew his son's fate, he couldn't finish the thought.

"Yes. Azenzêr was dead by then." The tears welled up in her eyes and she didn't even bother to try and hold them back.

"How – how did he die?" Nuada's own voice was unsteady as he asked the question.

"He, um…" She stopped and took a steadying breath. "Dihyā, Yeshim and I were hauled before Reşid one morning. Azenzêr too. We knew straight away we'd been discovered." A tremor ran through her as she recalled that day. "Reşid was furious. I think it made him careless. I can't imagine why else he would do what he did. He must have surely known it would make Dihyā even more determined to have her revenge on him. His own fatherly feelings didn't seem to run too deep so I can only think he had no idea of the hatred he was about to inspire. In any event, he confronted us with our _perfidy_ in seeking to deprive him of his property, namely ourselves, and said he would teach us a lesson we would not forget. He said to Dihyā that her – her filthy, puling whelp…"

Nuada stiffened beside her, furious himself now. He couldn't speak.

"…would pay the price." Elfraine paused for a moment.

"Go on," bit out Nuada.

"He gave a signal to the guard beside him, the one holding Azenzêr. The guard tightened his grip on the poor wee thing to stop him from wriggling, though he still tried, and then the man placed his hand over Azenzêr's mouth and nose and… and smothered him."

A groan escaped Nuada.

Elfraine's voice was choked as she continued speaking. "Dihyā screamed, and struggled with the guards holding her but Reşid used the talisman and there was nothing she could do. Yeshim and I were on our knees, being held at sword point, and we were both in tears. After only a moment or so, Azenzêr went still and so it was done; his little life was over. Reşid gave another signal, this time to the guard by Yeshim, and he – he beheaded her. She never even saw it coming." Elfraine stopped and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Reşid told me I would have met the same fate had he been able to put a permanent end to me. I was less than useless to him now – he had not been able to discover the secret to my immortality – and so instead, I was to be given to the captains in the Padishah's army the next day – a gift that would last them for as long as they were amused by it. He thought they'd get a great deal of amusement seeing as they could do anything they wished and I'd ultimately be none the worse for wear."

Nuada looked at her in horror. "They did not…"

"No," she answered quickly. "As it turned out, they never got the chance – thanks to Dihyā. After Reşid had given his orders, she was put back to work with the other guards and I was returned to the harem. There was no escape into madness this time, not like there had been after Fortune… after she had died. The others all went about their business as if nothing had happened though there were sly looks in my direction all through that day. It was like a living nightmare. I was desperate to see Dihyā – to see how she fared. I knew only too well what - " Elfraine stopped and shook her head. "That night, I managed to slip out past the eunuchs and make my way to her quarters."

"How was she?" Nuada looked down at Azenzêr's body, his heart twisting, for both Dihyā and their little son... and for himself too.

"She was devastated - and very, very angry," replied Elfraine. "When the guard killed Azenzêr, it had caused much amazement that he'd turned to stone. Once they'd… pawed over him and had their fill of wonder, Reşid ordered his body put in Dihyā's quarters. It was to serve as a reminder of Reşid's power over her."

Nuada bared his teeth in a feral snarl. He had never felt so impotent in his life, not when his father had refused to continue using the Golden Army against the human foe and not when his sister had turned her back on him, preferring instead to side with Athair.

"Dihyā asked for my help in avenging Azenzêr's death," continued Elfraine. "She'd had all day to think and make her plans, and she didn't waste any time."

"She was always quick to act once she'd made up her mind," he said tersely.

"The next day, Reşid and his guard were to set out to join the Sultan, Ahmed, and his army," continued Elfraine. "They were training, deep in the countryside, and that was when Reşid was going to give me to Ahmed's captains. Dihyā and I would wait until we were outside the city walls and then we would make our move. She always rode ahead with the Varangian Guard – the scouts - but I would be with the main detail and close to Reşid. I was to get the talisman off him by whatever means I could." Elfraine gave Nuada a tight smile. "Whilst Reşid could only think of me as an amusing and unbreakable toy, Dihyā was quick to see my value when it came to combat. She gave me her dagger to help me in my task. It was the only weapon I could easily conceal about me."

That gave Nuada pause. "She asked a great deal of you," he said slowly. It was immediately obvious to him what such a request would have meant to someone with only a dagger as a weapon and as unused to fighting as Elfraine must have surely have been all those years ago even despite Dihyā's tuition. Training was a very different prospect to actually facing a skilled and determined adversary, and from what he'd seen so far, even with four hundred years' worth of experience behind her, Elfraine came in for some punishing treatment as many times as not when she fought.

"Dihyā was honest with me about what would be involved," Elfraine replied, "but I was more than willing to do whatever it took to make Reşid pay for his crimes, both against Dihyā and Azenzêr, and against me as well. After all, I had my own score to settle with him. Once I had the talisman in my possession, Dihyā would be bound to me – not him. She said I need only say her name to summon her and she'd be with me in an instant. Whatever I did though, I was not to touch Reşid; he belonged to her."

"That was only right," said Nuada in a hard, chilling tone.

Elfraine was struck by a sudden thought. "You would have been a formidable pair, you and Dihyā," she said as she considered him. _A perfect pair_, she thought to herself.

"We were effective enough together."

Elfraine was certain 'effective' was an understatement. "Devastating, more like," she murmured. The cold look in his eye told her that was much closer to the mark. "Anyway," she continued, "that was the plan. It was as much as was possible on such short notice and it would have to do us. There was only one more thing to see to before morning."

Nuada tilted his head in silent question.

"Dihyā wanted to say some words over Azenzêr," explained Elfraine, "and make arrangements for him to be laid to rest somewhere more fitting than the Vizier's palace should she not survive following day. As it turns out, it was just as well she gave the matter some thought," she said gently.

Nuada was silent for a moment and then he spoke. "So that was when it happened." He'd long ago given up hope of ever finding out how the Djinn woman who had once meant so much to him had died and it seemed strange even to him – born into magic and well-versed in its arts – to think that he was going to learn now, all these many years later, how she had met her fate.

Elfraine cleared her throat, suddenly unable to trust her voice. Though he might have mourned Dihyā a long time ago, the tense, almost anxious look on his face told her that the loss still had the power to hurt. "Reşid set out early the next morning," she said. "We left by way of the Golden Gate and once we were clear of the Walls of Constantinople, and out of sight of the sentinels, I made my move."

"What did you do?"

Elfraine gave Nuada a small smile. "Never tell him I said so, but our demon friend was not altogether wrong about the effectiveness of a blitz attack," she said, referring to the morning some five days earlier when they'd been besieged in the BPRD headquarters by the Hounds of Odin and the shadow creatures. "I got as close to Reşid as I could, but not so close that I couldn't get some speed up, and then I spurred my horse and charged at him, full tilt."

"I suppose you would have at least had the element of surprise if not the actual wherewithal to carry it through," said Nuada. A concealed dagger was hardly the weapon of choice for such an attack, especially against an armed and mounted man presumably well-used to fighting.

"I had the momentum to knock him off his horse," Elfraine informed him with a touch of asperity.

"And likely ended up rolling in the dust with him."

"Well, yes," she admitted. "I did. But I knew it was coming and was prepared for it. I pulled up my horse at the last moment and flung myself at Reşid. We were on the ground with me sitting on top of him before he had any idea of what had just happened. I cut the talisman from around his neck, said Dihyā's name, and as she'd promised she was with me in an instant."

"Then that was all that mattered, I suppose," said Nuada a little grudgingly. "You obviously made the right decision."

"I'm glad you think so," she muttered.

Her words and tone brought him up short, and he shook his head as he stared down into her face. "I am sorry, Elfraine. You did make the right decision, I know. I – I just do not like the thought of not being there. I would have liked to get my hands on this _Re__şid_ myself."

Elfraine's look was sympathetic. "You're not used to inaction, are you," she observed.

Nuada's lips twisted mirthlessly. "After more than two thousand years of mainly inaction – or limited action at best - I think I am most certainly used to it. You would be closer to the mark to say I detest it!"

"I can well imagine how much you must hate it," she said, staring up at him thoughtfully. "You'll make a good king for your people. There'll be no fading away with you at their head and I daresay you'll find all the action you could ever want."

A frown creased his brow at the reminder of his people's plight. He still had no idea how he was going to reclaim their place in the world, not now that the Crown was gone and with it any chance of awakening the Golden Army. The unstoppable mechanical force had been the lynchpin in all his plans.

"I wish I had your confidence," he murmured before setting aside his dark thoughts. The ones that awaited him were hardly any better. "With Dihyā free from Reşid's hold you would have stood a better than even chance of winning. What went wrong?"

"She did do what she set out to, Nuada. Reşid most certainly paid for his crimes so I'm not sure she would have thought the day entirely lost."

He gave a curt nod. "She killed him then, before she - died."

"Yes. As I said, I got the talisman and she appeared beside me almost straight away. Unfortunately, Reşid's guards were also on us almost straight away. She killed one of them and I snatched up his scimitar, and then we were in the thick of it. Dihyā was used to battle but I was not, and to this day I wish I'd been more effective than I was. I don't know that it would have made much difference in the end but I can't help wondering every now and then."

"You stood beside her," said Nuada. "That is what matters."

"Perhaps," she murmured, unconvinced. "In any event, we might have succeeded against Reşid's personal guard but the Varangian Guard turned up. Dihyā's disappearance from their midst had obviously alarmed them and they returned to the main detail. According to Dihyā, they'd been a fearsome fighting force many hundreds of years earlier but were now nothing more than an ill-disciplined bunch of murderers and mercenaries." Elfraine paused and grimaced. "They looked frightening enough to me though. For all that she had a poor opinion of them, there were certainly enough of them and they soon turned the tide of battle in favour of Reşid's personal guard. We were quite simply overwhelmed.

"Reşid had gotten himself safely behind the others but Dihyā had him in her sights. She fought her way through to him against all the odds though how she stayed standing, I don't know. She'd been badly wounded by then and it must have been sheer willpower alone that kept her on her feet. I tried to watch her back as best I could but I didn't have enough experience – _any_ experience – to do much good. I glanced her way and saw her get her man. Reşid had parried an attack from her when she leapt up and spun round, taking him entirely by surprise. She struck him a blow, on an angle, cutting into his shoulder and on down through his chest. He was dead before he hit the ground."

Elfraine frowned as she continued. "One of the guardsmen slashed into me with his scimitar at that very moment and as I fell, I saw another of Reşid's men attack Dihyā from behind. The blow he landed on her was a killing one. She fell to her knees and caught my gaze, and in that instant the look in her eyes seemed to say to me that she'd accepted her fate. Just before the darkness closed in on me, I saw her burst into flames, smokeless and silver. She rose up on the breeze and then every trace of her was gone, and I knew nothing more."

A shudder ran through Nuada as he turned Elfraine's words over in his mind. He thought he had come to terms with the loss of Dihyā a long time ago but the account of her death – and of their son's too – was almost beyond bearing. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, silently railing at all the Fates… and at himself too for not being there when he was needed most.

"You would have been there had you known," murmured Elfraine, hugging him.

Nuada's eyes flew open and he pinned her with a startled gaze. "How did you…" He paused and regrouped. "Are you able to read my mind now?" There was a distinct edge to his voice and his muscles tensed.

His sudden change of mood surprised Elfraine in her turn. "No! Of course not!" she exclaimed but even as she spoke understanding dawned. He looked so suspicious – anxious, almost - that she couldn't help but smile even despite the sad memories her story had recalled. "Your thoughts are safe from my prying mind," she teased gently. "I suppose I've learnt enough about you by now to make a good guess as to what you might be thinking."

He inclined his head and she felt him relax slightly.

"You do know you shouldn't blame yourself," she said, serious once more.

"So _you_ tell me. My head and my heart say otherwise. If I had done even one thing differently, none of it might have ever happened." His tone was full of self-recrimination.

"Oh, Nuada," she began as she reached up and rested the palm of her hand on his cheek.

"And _you_ know I am right in thinking it," he continued, cutting off whatever else she had been about to say.

His expression brooked no argument, not that she had one anyway. Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her hand. "I am not saying you _are_ to blame for any of it but… yes, I know the feeling. Even something so small as a single word might have made all the difference. It eats away at you... that of all the roads you could travel, you picked the worst one possible."

He had most certainly done that, thought Nuada as he stared down at Azenzêr's body. He was well aware too that Elfraine was referring to her own regrets now and not just his. She lay back against his chest while he rested his chin on her head, and they both lapsed into silence as each dwelt on the choices they had made all those years ago. Lulled by the heat of the golden sun, he closed his eyes again and before long he found himself traversing the byways of the ages, retracing his steps through time and place.

His mind wandered back to where it had all started. To the green forests and fields of Bethmoora, the land of his birth… home. Though he had been without anywhere to call home for more than half his life, he had never forgotten what it felt like, what it meant to belong in such a way. To be so intimately connected to a place that it was part of you. And family too: Balor and Nuala - also part of him once. He had stood apart from them for so long that the closeness they had shared could almost be a dream now.

An image of his mother flitted through his mind. _Nemhain_ - a warrior-queen who had died with her sword in her hand when he and his sister were only babes in arms. She had never been anything _but_ a dream to them. When they were children, he and Nuala had spent hours amusing each other with made-up tales about her, elaborating on snatches of information they had heard from others and trying to imagine what it would be like to have a mother. There had only been one portrait of her in Balor's castle and the Elf King never spoke about her except to say he would tell them more when they were older. But he never had and as a defence against not knowing, they had convinced themselves it didn't really matter anyway.

The sudden ache in his heart took Nuada by surprise, and it seemed to him now, all these many years later, that it mattered very much. _How can you miss what you never had, _he wondered. He was uncomfortably aware that he only had to open his eyes and he would see the cold, stone visage of the son he had never known… the son he already missed with a vengeance.

His mind quickly moved on only to settle perversely on other losses. His childhood was some four hundred years behind him now and he had risen through the ranks of the _Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae_, and fallen too. He had still not regained his former rank, or the full measure of his father's confidence, but he was slowly clawing them back after a disastrous command almost a century earlier when he had led a detachment of the _Gardaí Capall_ against a thieving, murdering band of humans. It was the first time he had ever seen what truly brutal behaviour mankind was capable of and it was an event which he had recalled more than once this day. When he had finally caught up with this particular group of humans, he had instinctively reacted in kind, forgetting every lesson he'd ever learnt from his father on the necessity for justice to be both swift and merciful. He never doubted he had been right in his actions that day but he'd been unable to persuade his father of it, and so he had stood silent and straight as the king passed judgment on him and swiftly, though in no way mercifully, demoted him to the rank and file of the foot soldiers. He kept his thoughts to himself thereafter as he made the humiliating climb back up to the echelons of command in the Elven army.

It had also been the first time he and Athair had ever been truly at odds over anything, and the first time he'd been unable to mend his differences with Nuala. He withdrew into himself, focusing on his military duties and spending more and more time on his own, training in arms - _bataireacht_, riding far and wide in all weathers, and rediscovering a childhood love of delicate, intricate metal-work. Though he had no idea how to mend things with his father and sister, he became proficient at mending broken baubles and gewgaws, and other more useful bric-a-brac.

It was during this time that he had met Éadaoin an Aonach, an Elven noblewoman from the southernmost part of the country who was visiting the Bethmooran court with her family. She was well-named, surpassing even Nuala in beauty, and he was smitten by the younger woman at first sight. For a while it seemed she returned his feelings, however when he'd broached the subject of a future together she had been mortified. She was sorry the prince had been misled into thinking she felt anything more for him but he could only ever be a friend to her for she already had a true love, she said.

He was startled at first for he'd not heard any talk of a rival for her affections. "Who!" he had demanded fiercely. The sympathetic look she'd given him as she answered still rankled.

"I don't know," she had said. "He has not yet been born."

Nuada could only stare at her, uncomprehending.

She had explained how almost two hundred years earlier, as she was entering womanhood, she had dreamed of the man she would one day call husband. All she knew of him was his face, and that she would be more than three thousand years old when he was finally born. Nuada didn't know which was worse: the pain of rejection or the insult of being rejected for someone who didn't' even exist yet.

Oddly enough, his disappointment in love had led to a thaw in his relationship with his sister. Nuala sensed his pain, and her tender heart was unable to bear the thought of him suffering in such a way. She finally forgave him for his savagery towards those long-dead human foes and reached out to him, offering friendship once more and sisterly comfort. His relationship with his father remained cool though and never regained its former warmth. He was always left feeling that Athair was watching him, just waiting for another brutal fall from grace, and he came to resent having to straddle the gulf between his own sense of honour and justice, and Balor's.

And so the years passed. Nuala became more and more a bone of contention in the uneasy relations between him and his father, and the humans continued to intrude into Fae lands, never happy with what they had and always grasping for more. In the early days they could often be peaceably persuaded to give up what they had usurped, and Balor - and Nuada - readily accepted such a resolution, provided no Fae blood had been spilled. But over time, the humans had increasingly stood their ground and were ever more willing to fight to keep their ill-gotten gains. By the time Nuada was two thousand years old, the magical races were in an almost constant state of warfare with mankind, and both sides had lost count of how much blood had been spilled. Nuada now stood in his father's place at the head of the Bethmooran _Cosantóirí_ and was only all too familiar with the task of leading warriors into battle and directing an entire army.

Under his leadership, the army had greatly expanded too. For as long as anyone could remember, only elves had been permitted to serve but by the time Nuada had taken charge it was clear the _Cosantóirí_ would soon be vastly outnumbered; the tide of humanity was in full flood. As the centuries passed, the humans had swarmed together, living in larger and larger groups and breeding at a steady rate, until finally they were able to amass and deploy truly great armies. Victory was no longer assured, and Nuada and his Bethmooran forces came to know the bitter taste of defeat. After a short argument with Athair, he had opened up the _Cosantóirí_ to magical beings of any stripe. There had been plenty of takers too and before long he was devising new battle strategies to make the best use of the particular strengths of the ogres, goblins, trolls and other creatures who now swelled the ranks of the Elven army. It had taken much hard work but he had shaped the disparate beings – many of them solitary and fiercely individual by nature - into an efficient, cohesive fighting force, and once again the balance had swung back in favour of the magical races.

They had not kept that advantage for long though; the human population continued to surge, and humans were nothing if not inventive and adaptable. To make matters worse, a new human invader had come from the vast continental land mass lying to the east of _Na hOileáin Thiar_. The armies of the Caesars posed the greatest threat yet to the Sons of the Earth. They brought with them a lethal and unyielding determination to expand their dominion over every part of the globe, and there was nothing which could stand in the way of their enormous, disciplined military might

It was about this time that the Master of the Goblin Blacksmiths had come to Balor with his offer to build the king a golden mechanical army - _seventy times seventy soldiers that would never know hunger and could not be stopped._ Though Nuada had urged his father to accept the offer, Balor had hesitated. He would think on it, he said. And so while the old king thought, the young prince and the Bethmooran _Cosantóirí_ fought on.

Balor had been considering the goblins' offer for some weeks when an urgent call for help came from the _Daoine Sìth_, the Elven clan living in the northern part of the great main island, across the small stretch of sea from Bethmoora. They were under attack from a large battalion of the invading Romans and in desperate need of aid. Nuada had answered their call, taking several companies of the _Cosantóirí_ with him. Though they staved off the attackers, many of the Bethmoorans and _Daoine Sìth_ were badly wounded in the ensuing battle and in the confusion afterwards, the humans seized around twenty of the stricken Fae warriors and took them back to their stronghold. Nuada himself had sustained a severe wound, from a pilum thrown by one of the Roman legionnaires. The iron-shanked spear caught him in the side, doing considerable damage, but he'd fought on, collapsing only when the Romans withdrew from the field. Luckily, he was not one of the wounded who were taken prisoner...

_The __Daoine Sìth healers cleansed his blood and tended to his injuries. They insisted he rest and recover but he was determined to set out with a handful of the less severely wounded warriors and attempt a rescue of those who had been captured by the enemy. A light mist of rain was falling by the time the small party finally tracked down the invaders and their captives to a large settlement of humans who lived in the area. Having overrun the local inhabitants, the Romans had set up their base there. _

_The Elven warriors watched from the cover of the trees. At first, the town appeared to be deserted and they immediately suspected a trap but the huge roar of a crowd quickly told them their suspicions were wrong. They glamoured themselves and cautiously made their way into the settlement where they found most of the invaders and townsfolk packed into a large amphitheatre. What they saw made them sick to their stomachs._

_Their comrades were huddled together in the middle of the arena, surrounded by a group of well-armed, heavy-set humans. Some of the Fae were standing, though only just, and others were kneeling. The rest were dead, their shattered, shredded corpses lying scattered around the dampening ground. Being badly wounded in battle earlier and too injured to use their magic now, and also being without weapons, the ones who were still alive were utterly defenceless against the humans facing them in the ring. One of the gladiators stepped forward, sword in hand, and started slicing into a Bethmooran warrior kneeling nearby. The elf lifted his hands in a desperate attempt to fend off the blows only to lose half his arm instead. As he was about to pitch forward, his attacker grabbed a handful of the warrior's hair and jerked his head back. The crowd let out another great roar of approval as their champion's sword bit deep into his captive's neck. It caught on the spine but a bit of muscle power and a deft wrench of the blade saw it carry on clean through, and the triumphant gladiator lifted the elf's head aloft to the cheering spectators. Golden blood sprayed and pumped from severed arteries and veins, and oozed down along dangling ends of tendon and flesh. The body parts started to turn to stone and three thousand voices joined together in an awestruck buzz of amazement. The whole episode had taken less than a minute..._

Nuada's eyes snapped open and he glanced down at his son's body, the bile rising in his throat at the thought that _his_ child had provided similar entertainment for shallow, greedy humans in the moment of his death. The face of another dead Elven baby suddenly rose up in his mind, a face which had lain buried under the weight of Time for almost four thousand years. The memory was still surprisingly raw even after all these centuries. She had been another child whom he had been unable to save. He tried to banish the images but as he stared out towards the horizon, others only crowded in to take their place... more dark memories from that terrible day some two thousand years ago now when Man had shown once more what brutal savagery he was capable of...

_He knew a force of arms would not avail them; everyone in the rescue party had sustained an injury of some sort in the earlier battle and there were just far too many humans for that anyway. Their best hope was their magic, though their strength there was sorely depleted too. Being injured, none of them was able to call on the full measure of their powers and they would simply have to make do with what they had. _

_Nuada had just given the order not to engage the enemy unless it was absolutely necessary, and to use what magic they could to get their captured comrades out of the arena as quickly as possible, when a sudden hush fell over the crowd and caught their attention. The grinding of metal and wood rasped out in the damp, misty air and a large gate slowly creaked open on the other side of the enclosure. The crowd let lose a mighty roar of excitement as a thin, snarling tiger rushed out and the human gladiators scrambled over the barriers to safety. An Elven captive, with his leg almost severed at the knee, grabbed at the wall and made a desperate attempt to do the same. Against all odds he reached the top but was pushed back into the ring by the humans on the other side amidst much scornful braying from those watching on. The starving tiger was on him in an instant, ripping and tearing into his flesh as he screamed away the last of his life. His body lapidified and the crowd's cheers turned to laughter as the tiger's feeding frenzy came to an abrupt end. It bit down on a hardened limb and shattered its canines even as the limb itself shattered under the force of the beast's powerful jaws. Lifting its head, the tiger roared with pain and confusion. Its howls had barely died away when three lions came slinking out from behind the gate and immediately lined up their targets._

"_Now!" Nuada barked out the order. He and the five warriors with him dropped their glamour and disappeared in the blink of an eye only to reappear a second later in the centre of the arena, weapons drawn and forming, as best they could, a defensive circle around their captured comrades. Nuada grabbed for a wounded _Daoine Sìth _warrior close by to him – __Ælfweard, as it turned out – and swung his sword in a wide arc to fend off a lion which had just leapt at him. Even though the stitches in his side were of Elven silk, the sudden violence of his movement caused them to pull and tear and blood once more soaked through his shirt and surcoat. With the lion's stinking breath hot on his face, the surprised roar of the crowd deafening him, and a hundred Roman centurions rushing forward to slay the uninvited participants, he used the last of his strength to carry the badly injured __warrior along the unseen paths of magic and to the safety of the forest beyond the human settlement. He fell to the ground, his body racked with pain once more, and when he lifted his head and looked around, he saw that two of his party had not made it out. His heart sank as he thought of the fate they had suffered along with those of the captives they had been unable to save…_

Still, their loss had not been totally in vain, he thought bitterly now. When he'd returned to Bethmoora, his report had been enough to convince the Elf King to accept the goblins' offer to build the Golden Army. Even Nuala had been convinced – for a short while, at least. But when the mechanical army had started laying waste to the land, killing everything in its path, children included, Balor had lost his nerve and offered the humans a truce instead.

Children! Nuada's gaze flickered back to Azenzêr once more. The words he had spoken to Anung un Rama four years earlier came back to haunt him. _Is it them, or us? Which holocaust should be chosen?_ He had made his choice years ago. It had not been easy then, and it was the most tangled mess he could imagine now. Little wonder the demon had hesitated to answer him. Nuada had always known human children would be counted amongst the casualties of the Golden Army as indeed they had been when, at his urging, his father had unleashed the army against humanity the first time. Looking down at his son, he wondered how they could ever have done such a thing. And looking down on that small, silent form, he wondered how they could _not_ have done it. Time and time again, the humans had proven themselves incapable of keeping their word and only all too capable of the worst kind of cruelty, no matter that they had all once looked at the world with wide, innocent eyes. It was something he thought he had come to terms with a long time ago.

His father had made a different choice though; he had privileged humankind over his own even when it was clear the truce was no longer worth the parchment it was written on. He had been willing to sacrifice the magical races – _his own children even_ - in order to preserve a few dozen empty, meaningless words and an entire species which had quickly, and conveniently, forgotten those words anyway in their voracious quest for more. Would Athair have been willing to sacrifice his grandson too, wondered Nuada as he contemplated Azenzêr's body. The thought that his father might have been willing to do such a thing hurt more than the thought of anything else which the old Elf King had been prepared to sacrifice. If Nuada imagined he had come to an accommodation with his father's stance the night before last then he was having serious doubts about that now.

A question Elfraine had asked him yesterday suddenly flashed through his mind - whether he remembered when man, beast and all magical creatures had lived together in peace. Those times were another thing Athair had never really spoken of and it struck Nuada now that there was a lot his father had never told him and Nuala. He recalled the humans he'd known in his early years - the few who had seemed capable of living in harmony with the magical races and with the earth – and his brow furrowed as he tried to reconcile their faces with those of the crowd which had cheered so enthusiastically two thousand years ago when his Elven warriors had been brutally slain for an afternoon's entertainment. It was an impossible task; those few rare faces sunk under the teeming, braying tide of the rest. What could possibly have driven Athair to make the choices he did? Nuada found his father's talk of honour and nature even less convincing now than he had four years ago, and then for thousands of years before that. But he would never find any answers now, he knew, and all he could do was stare in vain at the impenetrable knot of the past.

Half a life in exile had followed those dark days of human conquest and Elven despair. More dark, bitter days spent wandering in foreign lands, learning every last thing he could about the adaptive, inventive, every-changing enemy. He learned too that some things never changed; though they might try to delude themselves as to their true natures - hiding behind the languages of religion, science, and the most hateful one of all, _commerce_ - their actions gave them away, time and time again. At heart, they were still the same shallow, grasping creatures they had always been. He had watched them for thousands of years and he knew it to be true.

He had roamed first through the Western Isles, where he had met Mr Wink, and then, after the short, sharp shock and crushing disappointment of Lindisfarne, through all the kingdoms and wilds of the vast continents to the south and east, including these lands – the lands of the Djinn, where he had met Dihyā. He hadn't stayed long that first time, or any of the times he'd returned to see her in the centuries that followed. Finally, after nearly a millennium spent perfecting his arts - those of sword and spear, and magic too - he had been making his way back to Bethmoora and had met with her one last time. Of course, he hadn't known it would be the last time… and he hadn't known that they'd made a baby together, a precious new life. His eyes traced the delicate lines of Azenzêr's tiny body. If he _had_ known, how different might the future have been for _this_ Fae child at least?

His brows furrowed as he considered those other roads Elfraine had mentioned; they would only ever exist in dreams now. He had long since chosen his path and finally, four years ago, it had led him to the human city of New York, on the other side of the world. All three pieces of the crown had at long last been within his grasp and with his resolve as unshakable as ever, it had seemed that at least one dream was about to be realised. For a brief while his people had had a future again but between himself, his father and his sister - and with some help from Anung un Rama and Elizabeth Sherman - they had sealed the doom of the magical races more effectively than any human army could ever have done.

As Nuada's frown deepened, Elfraine stirred restlessly in the circle of his arm and claimed his attention. He was only too willing to leave off his thoughts of the past. She heaved a sigh and he didn't doubt that she was as disturbed by her own memories as he was by his. He realised too that there were still some things she hadn't told him.

"What happened after Dihyā was killed?" The abrupt question cut across the whisper of the breeze and into the gentle hum of nature.

Elfraine started as the sudden sound of his voice roused her from her dark reverie. It took her a moment or two but she gathered her thoughts and carried on with the last of her story. "When I revived, the guards had left," she said. "They knew I wouldn't be dead for long and I suppose they just decided I wasn't worth bothering with. Reşid's body, the horses, and Dihyā's Varangian sword were all gone though. They didn't bother with the dagger she'd given me, and so I picked it up and walked back to the city. I got there just before nightfall and managed to slip in through the gates. When I finally arrived at the vizier's palace, the place was in an uproar - owing to his death - and it wasn't hard to sneak in and make my way to Dihyā's quarters. No one paid me the least bit of attention. I got Azenzêr's body, his rattle too, and the silver ring you'd given Dihyā, and then I helped myself to a horse from the stables and left for good. I was glad to be gone from that sad, terrible place!

"Getting out of the city was a little harder but once I was out, I rode east into the countryside for four or five days until I found this spot. I'd climbed up here to get the lie of the land and make sure there were no nearby settlements, when I found this cave." She gestured towards the opening a short distance away in the side of the cliff. "It looked like the perfect place to leave him, safe from prying eyes and pawing hands, and I laid him out to rest in there. Dihyā had asked me to hold onto the ring but she said nothing about her dagger so I left that in the cave too, as a sort of memorial to her." Elfraine paused for a moment. "I like to think she's been guarding him ever since." A tremor ran through Nuada at her words, and she gave him a comforting squeeze.

But he did not want to be comforted. "I am the one who should have been guarding him," he said, his voice hard. Before Elfraine could reply, he removed his arm from around her and made to stand. "I need to perform the last rites of my people for him." The words were clipped and terse.

He rose to his full height, cradling the tiny body of his son in his arms, and Elfraine scrambled to her feet. "Of – of course," she replied before starting towards the cave.

"No!"

She stopped in her tracks and turned to give Nuada a questioning look.

"I do _not_ want him hidden away in the dark. I want him to lie in the open air, under the sun and sky."

A look of distress flitted across Elfraine's face. "I - I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing when I put him in the cave," she stammered. "It's just - I couldn't bear the thought of someone finding him and causing more harm to his little body. Of it being treated as if it were nothing more than rubbish, like… like Fortune's was." She was powerless to stop the tears which welled up in her eyes.

He remembered then that she'd never had her daughter's body to bury. His reaction was instinctive; he caught her by the arm and pulled her in close. "I know, Elfraine. I am the one who is sorry – for you, for Fortune, for Dihyā… for – for my son. For speaking as I did. I am angry at myself, not at you." His voice dropped as his lips moved against her hair. "You did nothing wrong. I think you did more right by him than any of us put together." He couldn't hide the bitter undertone to his words.

Elfraine leaned back slightly and lifted her head, as if to argue.

"Don't," he warned softly. "I have my own way of seeing it and I will find my own way to live with it."

She gave a brief, jerky nod and his hand slipped up, tangling in her hair as he hugged her head to his chest. They were silent for a few minutes and then he spoke again. "Four years ago, when Nuala… When she and I died, it was in a dark cavern far underground and far away from the fields and open air we loved so much as children. It – it was not what I ever imagined my final resting place would be. I don't want that darkness for my son." This time Nuada accepted the fierce hug she gave him. "I'll protect him with a magic to conceal him from any human who might happen upon this place. It won't keep him safe should a great number of them arrive here and start churning up the land as they do," he continued, "but I _will_ have him out in the open. He belongs to the Gods now, to the Earth and to Time. The wind and rain should have his remains."

Elfraine's shoulders started to shake and she buried her face into his chest; it was his turn to comfort her now. He could feel the sting of tears in his own eyes as he held her and waited for her muffled sobs to subside.

When the wave of grief had passed, she looked up at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she cupped his cheek with her hand. "Just tell me what you want me to do, love," she said.

Nuada looked down at his son's body, lying in the crook of his arm, and then over at the rock they had just been sitting on. "That will be a good place to lay him," he said, nodding towards the flat, grey stone. "Facing the rising sun."

"That – that is a lovely thought," she murmured, her voice catching on the words. "I'll get his rattle and the dagger." She started for the cave once more.

Nuada opened his mouth to stop her again but then shut it. It was the way of humans, not elves, to bury their dead with possessions, and that they sought to cling to their belongings even in death had always been, to his mind, yet more proof of their base greed. But somehow, he couldn't fault Elfraine for wanting to leave the rattle with his son's body. Indeed, the first thought he'd had when he'd seen it in the cave was that it was something to at least keep Azenzêr company through the ages. And it was only fitting that something of the babe's mother should be left with him too. Dihyā's dagger would continue to guard him in his new resting place.

When Elfraine returned from the cave, Nuada was kneeling beside the rock. He had arranged Azenzêr's body on the rough, sun-warmed surface and was waiting for her. She handed him the dagger first and then the rattle. He laid the gleaming Djinn blade on one side of his son and put the rattle next to the baby's head. He was about to stand when Elfraine spoke.

"Will you not leave something of yours with him?"

Nuada's head whipped round and he stared up at her. Though it was not the Elven way, he was seized with a sudden longing to do at least one thing for his son. Uncertainty shadowed his dark gold eyes. "I – I have nothing to give him."

A small frown creased Elfraine's brow and she looked him over from head to toe. Her eyes returned to the crimson sash around his waist and her expression suddenly cleared. "What about _your_ dagger?"

He was a little surprised at first and then his lips curved in a slow, half-smile as he thought about her suggestion. "It will do perfectly," he said. "My thanks, Lady." He turned back to the rock and drew his dagger. As he laid it down on the other side of his son, opposite Dihyā's blade, Elfraine quickly gathered some wildflowers, which were growing in the stony crevices of the cliff face. She returned to Nuada's side and held them out to him, obviously meaning for him to lay them on his child's shrine.

His eyes met hers as he sat back on his haunches. Like possessions, flowers on graves were not part of the _Deasghnátha na Marbh_. His hesitation was only brief. "Will you arrange them for me, Elfraine?"

"Of course love," she replied.

He made some room for her, and she knelt down beside him and placed vibrant, rainbow splashes of colour around the alabaster stone of Azenzêr's body. When she had finished, she looked up at him. "Are you ready Nuada?"

He gave a sharp nod and then rose to his feet, pulling her up with him as he stood. Closing his eyes and bowing his head, he reflected on the ancient words he was about to say. For the second time in less than a day, the death rites of his people would be performed and though he was familiar with their observance and saw the beauty in them, he found it a strange and terrible thing to be saying those words now over the tiny remains of the son he'd never known. A faint tremor ran though his body and Elfraine squeezed his hand. The comfort in her touch wrapped around his heart and shored him up. He opened his eyes and half-turned to her, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a warm kiss on her wrist before releasing her. And then, with the hot sun on his back, he looked down at his son again and raised his arms to the clear, blue sky as he began to chant the ancient words of the _Dóiteán Íonú_ and summon forth the cleansing fire.

Elfraine watched in wonder as the white-gold light appeared over Azenzêr's chest and a delicate, ethereal flame began to sparkle and shimmer all around him. When she had first seen it in the Troll Market that night, she'd thought it one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. It was even more beautiful as it burnt now in the light of day and wove its golden filaments through the very rocks and trees. Nuada came to the end of the incantation and the tinkling harmony of the magic chimed out clearly into the silence. Elfraine closed her eyes briefly as she savoured the exquisite sound of the celestial music and breathed in deep the sweet scents of nature and life.

When she opened her eyes again, she gasped in amazement. The magical flames had taken on a life of their own, becoming a myriad of tiny dancing figures. _Butterflies_, was her first thought but when she looked more closely she saw that they were little gossamer dragons, fluttering and darting all around Azenzêr's small alabaster body. She hadn't seen _that_ in the Troll Market. Her eyes flew to Nuada and he glanced up, his lips twisting in a faint, almost self-conscious smile as he stared back.

"A trick my father taught me - when I was a boy," he murmured. "I – I wanted to share it with my own son." Even as he spoke, the delicate fire-dragons shimmered and faded.

Once again, Elfraine felt tears welling in her eyes. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "He - he would have loved them." Her voice caught on the words and she bit her lip to stifle a sob.

Nuada inclined his head in acknowledgment and raised his arms once more as he began to recite the _Deasghnátha na Marbh_. When he was finished, even nature itself fell silent and he stood there for some moments, unmoving and quiet, as he contemplated the awful, incomprehensible twists and turns of fate. A sniff from Elfraine dragged him away from his thoughts and he looked up at her.

"You should take your leave of him now, if you wish to do so," he said. "I'll work the magic to conceal him. I don't know if you will be able to see him after it's done."

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that," she replied. "Yes. I - I'll make my final farewells to him now." She knelt down beside the rock again and leaned over Azenzêr's small, cold form. Her fingers traced the delicate lines of his little face and then she kissed his smooth cheeks and forehead, and whispered in his ear. "Goodbye my little angel. This will be the last time, love."

As she said her goodbyes, Nuada collected up his armour and weapons. He heard her say something else too but even with his Elven hearing, he couldn't quite make it out. He thought he might have heard the word 'list' but it made no sense and he couldn't be certain. When she had finished, she stood up and took a few steps back and he wove the spell to conceal his son's remains from human eyes. The flicker of disappointment on Elfraine's face told him that in spite of her dragon magic, she could no longer see Azenzêr either.

After one final look at his son, and a whispered promise to return, Nuada took hold of Elfraine's hand and gathered her in close. He was captivated by the feel of her... by the steady beat of her heart as she pressed into him. She was love, warmth and life, and he wanted her - needed her - desperately.

The look of longing on his face was so fierce that Elfraine thought it would surely be burnt into her soul forever. And then the time for thought was past. In the blink of an eye, they were standing in his quarters at the BPRD. Nuada cast aside his weapons and armour, and wrapped his arms around her properly as he claimed her lips. She was surrounded by the raw sensual heat of him, and with a soft moan she clutched at his broad shoulders and melted into him, returning his kiss.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Azenzêr: (Amazigh – Berber) boy's name meaning 'sunray' or 'sunshine'.

Yeshim: (Turkish) female name meaning 'most beautiful'.

Sahiba: (Turkish) female name meaning 'charming, pleasant, beautiful'.

Dihyā al-Kāhinat: O/C inspired by and based (very) loosely on Daya Ult Yenfaq Tajrawt (c. early 7th century AD – c. late 7th century AD). A Berber religious and military leader who led indigenous resistance to Arab expansion in Northwest Africa. Al-Kāhinat (the female priestess-soothsayer) was the nickname used by her opponents because of her reputed ability to foresee the future.

Jiniri: female Djinni. (Djinn: Arabic spirits, or genies, who inhabit an unseen world in dimensions beyond the human world in Islamic mythology. The djinn, humans and angels make up the three sentient creations of God. The Koran mentions that djinn are made of a smokeless and scorching fire, and they have the physical property of weight. Like human beings, the djinn can also be good, evil, or neutrally benevolent. _s._ djinni; _pl._ djinn.)

Reşid: (Turkish) masculine name.

Padishah: (Turkish) emperor, sultan.

Ahmed I, BAKHTÎ (The Fortunate) (1590 – 1617): Ottoman sultan 1603 - 1617.

Walls of Constantinople: a series of defensive stone walls surrounding and protecting Constantinople (modern-day Istanbul). Built around c.320 AD by the Roman Emperor, Constantine the Great. The Golden Gate was once the main ceremonial entrance into the capital. By 1615, the gates no longer served this function, and had been walled up and reduced in size.

Nemhain: (Irish mythology) goddess of war; possibly an aspect of the Morrigan. Her battle cry was said to be able to kill one hundred men.

Cosantóirí Bethmooran an Fae: (Irish Gaelic) The Bethmooran Defenders of the Fae (the army).

Gardaí Capall na Bethmoora: (Irish Gaelic) The Horse Guards of Bethmoora (the cavalry).

Bataireacht: (Irish Gaelic) Collective term for traditional Irish stick-fighting methods. Includes Gaelic spear, staff, axe and sword fighting methods. (See Hurley, John W., _Irish Gangs and Stick-Fighting_ (2002). The term is also found in early 20th century Irish dictionaries.) The most well-known weapon in this tradition is the shillelagh (shuh-LAY-lee). I've found some debate as to the origin and authenticity of the tradition especially when it comes to talk of 'traditional Irish martial arts' but I've taken it as a given for the purposes of this story.

Éadaoin: (Irish Gaelic – see also _Étaín_) Pronounced 'AY-deen'. Figure from Irish mythology, the heroine of _Tochmarc __Étaín_ (The Wooing of Étaín). Identified as a sun goddess.

Éadaoin an Aonach: (Irish Gaelic) Éadaoin the Fair.

Na hOileáin Thiar: (Irish Gaelic) The Western Isles (used here to denote the British Isles).

Daoine Sìth: (Scottish Gaelic) one of the Fae peoples of Scotland.

Pilum (plural pila): a heavy javelin used by Roman soldiers. With a long, thin iron shank and a heavy shaft, its design meant that it was armour piercing. (I've taken some license with the Roman invasion and conquest of the British Isles, which anyone familiar with this period in history will realise. The fudging of facts is mainly in the time line (ever so slightly) and in giving stronger weight than is probably warranted to the small amount of evidence of Roman activity in Ireland. I've also drawn on a 2010 discovery in York, in the north of England, of the 2,000-year old skeletal remains of almost 80 young men who suffered horrific injuries (hammer-like blows to the head, decapitations and an apparent tiger bite) at the point of death. One theory is that these are the remains of combatants who fought in local gladiatorial-style games for the entertainment of the Roman invaders. Some skeletons have healed injuries from weapons and all skeletons show signs that the individuals were heavily muscled from weapons training, lending further weight to this theory.)

Lapidify: To change to stone [from French _lapidifier,_ from Medieval Latin _lapidificāre,_ ultimately from Latin _lapis_ stone].

Deasghnátha na Marbh: (Irish Gaelic) Rites for the Dead.

Dóiteán Íonú: (Irish Gaelic) Purification Ritual. (Dóiteán = 'fire', meaning cleansing fire in this sense.)

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Many thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter. As always, I appreciate you taking the time to comment.

Just a bit regarding this chapter. I'm thinking about writing another short story with a more detailed account of Nuada's encounter with the Romans but I won't be starting that until I've finished _Dragon-Cursed _(mid to late-year, and about another 7 or 8 chapters to go.) Anyone who is familiar with my other stories here on Fanfiction might also recognise references to two other works-in-progress: _The Season of the Wolf_ (set c. 1700BC and detailing Nuada's disastrous encounter with the thieving, murdering band of humans which I mention in this chapter and one or two others) and _The Summer of the Serpents_ (set AD793 on Lindisfarne and also mentioned in this chapter.) There are also at least three or four other story ideas lurking in this current chapter but they are way down the list. NB: If you're interested in a general overview of the story arc I have in mind, I have some notes on my profile page here on Fanfiction. net.

Cheers!  
>ESSI<p> 


	55. Chapter 54

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Chapter 54**

As Nuada crushed Elfraine in his arms, something sheared and broke. The world, the night… memories and feelings, both old and new… None of it could be held at bay any longer and it all came crashing in on him. He tore his mouth away from Elfraine's and lifted his head only to catch sight of himself in the mirror above the dresser. How could it be that he appeared whole? He felt exactly as he had that moment, four years ago, when he'd fallen to pieces in the Chamber of the Golden Army. The reflection staring back at him was surely a trick of some kind.

A pained gasp from Elfraine startled him. He stared down into her upturned face and realised he was squeezing the breath out of her. Though he wanted nothing more than to cling to her as tightly as he could, he forced himself to relax his arms a little. "Forgive me, Lady. I – I…" He faltered and stopped. So much for laying his son to rest and finding his own way to live with the loss; he couldn't even find the words - didn't know if there _were_ any words - to give shape to his thoughts and feelings.

"There's nothing to forgive, Nuada," Elfraine assured him. "You want him back. Alive. To hold him and love him. To make everything right for him."

The compassion was clear in her eyes and it threatened to bring him to his knees. "Back?" he exclaimed harshly, fighting against the feeling. "I never had him in the first place!"

"I know, love. I'm so sorry." She hugged him hard; there was nothing else she could do.

She did know, Nuada thought as he struggled to hold on to his self-control. She'd lost her own daughter: a child happy in her days, by all accounts. Another small, beating heart stilled forever by a man who acted only to serve his own interests. A man who could justify the enormity - the brutal finality - of the things he did. A creature much like –

He stopped abruptly. Darkness and death loomed on all sides, suffocating him. His eyes darted around the dull, bland room searching for a way out but despite the door and window, there was none. The crushing pressure came from within, transcending any box man could make, and there was no escaping any part of it. Not even his elven magic could help him in that.

"I need to breathe!" The words burst forth, unbidden. He was keenly aware that they betrayed his distress but he didn't care. A gentle touch on the cheek broke through the tempest of feeling and he looked at Elfraine once more.

"Shall we take the air?" she asked, forcing a light tone.

Even though they had only just been standing outside, half a world away, and even though it wasn't really an escape, her suggestion was a lifeline and Nuada snatched at it. "Yes!"

"The rooftop or the trees?"

"The rooftop," he replied, without hesitation. "I've no wish to meet the guards who patrol the grounds... not if I can't kill them."

Elfraine ignored that last part. "Very well then. The rooftop it is. Though we can only hope it's not too crowded up there."

"What?" He stared at her, uncomprehending.

"Your sister told me it's a favourite spot for our demon friend and his family," she explained. "Her and Abraham too, sometimes."

Nuada's frown deepened. _He_ had never met anyone up there in the four or so months he'd been forced to stay at the Bureau but he was willing to take her word for it; he most definitely did not want to run into anyone else. "Where then?" The note of desperation was back in his voice.

"Oh sweetheart!" Elfraine flashed him an apologetic look; she had meant to distract him with her remark, not increase his agitation. "It's past midnight. I'm sure we'll have the place to ourselves."

His hunted expression eased and in the next instant they were standing outside, high on the roof of the BPRD. The November winds sweeping down the Delaware River buffeted them mercilessly. Nuada drew a deep draught of the cold night air and the tension in him loosened its grip a little. He looked down at Elfraine; she shivered in his arms and burrowed into him, seeking his warmth. Being human, she could not withstand the elements in the same way he could so he angled their bodies and took the main force of the icy gusts. However, the wind continued to whip up her hair and though he tried to smooth it down it was a lost cause, as was his own. He turned his efforts to the weather instead. There, at least, was something he could control in some way. Reaching one arm out in front, he flexed his fingers and summoned his magic.

Elfraine felt the power course through his body and turned her head to see what he was doing. As she looked on, glittering sparks of fire burst into life from out of nowhere. They swooped and darted around his pale, outstretched hand, growing in number and gathering in intensity as they flew about. "Will you make dragons again?" she asked, thinking of the delicate, magical fire-creatures he'd not long set to dancing around Azenzêr's small, lifeless body.

Nuada shook his head. "No. Something more practical this time." He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Watch."

She braced herself against the cold and turned in his arms as he began to chant a short incantation in the ancient tongue of his people. As his voice carried on the soughing wind, the golden filaments coalesced into a swirling ball of magic and were soon moving as one. When the spell came to an end, Nuada drew back his arm and made a throwing motion. The sparkling sphere hurtled deep into the night, unravelling as it went and sending myriad threads of light shooting out into the darkness. They flew straight and true, weaving unseen into the wind, and then, when their hold was fast, they veered off and headed straight down past the flat, grey façade of the building and out over the edge of the escarpment on which it sat, taking the gusting weather with them.

Elfraine stared in wonder at the air around her. It was still cold but there were no longer any bone-chilling blasts to cut through her and make her teeth chatter. From below in the valley though, there came a sudden loud, eerie moaning… the wind caught in ceaseless lament. She turned to Nuada, startled. "What - ?"

His expression was almost defensive as he replied. "I am not quite the weather-smith Cearul is."

Elfraine gave him a blank look.

"We each of us have our talents," he told her. "Mine is _not_ weather-working. Though it does my bidding, the wind protests. If it were Cearul, it would bow to his will without a murmur."

"Oh. I see," she said. Her expression was tinged with sympathetic understanding now.

Nuada's tension eased a fraction more. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped; he caught a flash of mischief in her eyes, and his own narrowed suspiciously.

"Not especially outstanding technically then," she suggested, her tone seemingly one of genuine commiseration. "And in no way a master of the art - but you do well enough in your efforts." She turned to the view again and snuggled back against him.

Nuada stared down at the top of her head, battling the urge to pinch her. She had just thrown some of his own words from earlier in the evening back at him, and a few of her own besides, but she was teasing, he knew. He could feel her quivering with suppressed laughter and his heart suddenly soared, breaking free of the grasping shadows which pulled him down and threatened to smother him. The unfettered feeling was so liberating, so unexpected, that it cost him some effort to rein it in. "Yes," he replied, his voice not quite steady as he prepared to retaliate in kind. "Not especially outstanding technically but I do well enough, Lady Wylde… Rather like you playing the violin as I recall."

Elfraine could no longer hold back her laughter; she spun round in his arms, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

He felt as if he were flying on the wind.

"Touché, Your Highness!" she said, smiling up at him. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and stood on tiptoe to plant a swift kiss on his lips then dropped back to her heels and turned to look out over the river once more.

His arms tightened reflexively and he pressed his face into her hair, softly bussing her thick, deep brown tresses.

She hummed with delight. "And Nuada," she said, a little breathlessly, thank you for seeing to my comfort. For sending the wind away."

"It is my pleasure, Elfraine," he replied. _Always. _He raised his head and looked out across the dark, swirling waters, to the lights of the human city on the far bank. The lurking shadows stirred anew.

"What's _your_ talent?" she asked, holding them at bay once more. "Apart from fighting. And swiving."

This time she did get a pinch, though not a hard one. "Do you mean to tell me you don't know?" he countered.

She faced him again and stared up into his dark gold eyes, a slight crease furrowing her brow as she thought back over the brief span of days they had known one another.

"Did you not discover it during our time together in the magic?" he prompted.

She considered the question for a moment before answering. "Thanks to the magic, I know who you are at heart, Nuada, and what you might be capable of but as for the rest of it, unless you tell me, then no, I don't know. And as for what I've learnt from _you_ so far… well, I'm certain you've only told me – shown me – the tiniest sliver of what there is." She pouted a little as she looked at him. "You, on the other hand, probably know all there is to know about me. I mean, there's the magic, and you've read my diaries. And I do talk a lot sometimes."

His dark lips twisted in a wry smile but he let the 'sometimes' pass unchallenged. Instead, he lifted a hand and laid it on her chest as he thought about what she'd said. The rhythm of her life beat strong beneath his palm, and it was as familiar to him as his own. "I know a great deal about you, and I know who you are here. But as for what goes on here…" His hand moved up and rested lightly on her temple. "I think I could live for all eternity and you would still surprise me."

"I'm not sure you mean that as a compliment," she said dryly, "but I'll take it as one. Anyway, I _don't_ know what this talent of yours is, so will you tell me or not?"

"You are right to take it as a compliment, Elfraine, and – " Her smile of delight distracted him for a second. "And of course I'll tell you. It's no secret. I can summon the birds and beasts of the forests and fields to do my bidding." He hesitated briefly. "You might not think it as useful a thing as weather-working."

"Why ever not?" she exclaimed. "I think it every bit as useful. _More_ useful even." She was clearly enchanted by the idea.

Nuada raised his brow. "Oh?"

"At home – at Miles Cross – Fortune used to take great delight in trying to coax the birds and wild animals to eat from her hand," replied Elfraine, her voice fond. "She never had much luck though, and I would have loved to have been able to summon them for her. It's a very charming talent to have."

"I have not always put it to such charming use." The words were out before he knew it and she was on them in an instant.

"What do you mean?"

He didn't even try to put her off. She'd prise an answer from him sooner or later and he preferred to meet the inevitable head on. He searched his memory for a suitable story - one which would not stir up the shadows again – and a tale from his early years came to mind. "I suppose that's no secret either," he murmured, "though it doesn't paint me in a very good light." As soon as he said the words, he had second thoughts but Elfraine's expectant look told him he was not going to be allowed to back out now. With a brief shake of his head, he started.

"When Nuala and I were children, we thought the Midsummer Feast the best of all our celebrations. It was one of our people's most joyous and sacred observances. Guests from every realm would come to mark the occasion – from all the magical races –and in our twelfth summer _Athair_ decided we could ride with the _Marcra Sióg_ – the Faerie Court – for the first part of the revels the following year."

"Oh! The Faerie Court," whispered Elfraine.

Nuada was arrested by the wonder in her tone and the look on her face. It was how he had felt once, he realised. He tried to recall the excitement and anticipation of those innocent days but they were little more than hazy fragments of a long-forgotten dream, buried deep under the weight of the ages.

"I always wanted to see it but never did," she continued wistfully. "When I was a child, I - " She stopped short and gave him a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, Nuada. I didn't mean to interrupt your story."

His eyes turned warm gold as he regarded her and his voice dropped. "I would be disappointed if you didn't. Please, finish what you were going to say Elfraine."

The intensity of his gaze nearly felled her and for a moment she forgot what she'd been talking about. But then her foolish heart started whispering false words of hope and she made a concerted effort to bring both it and her errant mind back under control again. A touch of colour kissed her cheeks as she complied with his request. "I – I spent many hours roaming the countryside in search of the Faerie Court. Hal used to laugh at me and tell me I was on a fool's errand but that never..."

"A fool's errand!" Nuada broke in, his voice suddenly glacial. "Does your cousin have such little respect for us?"

"No, no," exclaimed Elfraine hastily. "You misunderstand. The only fool was me. He meant the Faerie Court had the good sense to hide from me!"

"Was he calling us cowards then? Faint-hearted creatures who would run from children?" Nuada was loath to let go of the notion that her cousin had somehow insulted the magical races.

"No! He simply meant – oh!" She clasped a hand to her mouth and stared at Nuada in dismay.

He closed in for the kill, eyes gleaming. "What?"

"Um, perhaps you should finish _your_ story," she suggested diffidently.

"You first, Lady Wylde," he insisted, more certain than ever that she was about to hand him a good reason to put an end to her cousin's life.

"Oh! God's blood, Nuada!"

To his surprise, she sounded thoroughly annoyed with him.

"Hal said the Faerie Court hid from me on account of that stupid prophecy one of _your _kind supposedly gave my mother – the one that said _I'd_ be Queen of Elfland one day! They had the good sense not to want me for their queen, _he said, _and so they hid from me whenever they heard me coming. If I never found them, they'd never have to make me queen."

Nuada was lost for words.

"I didn't want to mention it because I didn't want us to argue about it… again," she grumbled. "I thought we'd laid the subject to rest yesterday morning and if you were any sort of gentleman, you wouldn't have pressed me for an answer just now."

She paused to draw breath and he laid a swift finger on her lips.

"Elfraine, I – I…" He floundered and stopped as he stared at her. Try as he might, he didn't know how to impose even a semblance of order on his tangled thoughts and feelings. There was so much he wanted… so much that would never be. One thing was clear though and in the end, it was all he could focus on without betraying everything he'd ever stood for. "I can only repeat the offer I made last evening," he said stiffly. "If you but say the word, I'll kill him."

"No!" exclaimed Elfraine. "Hal was teasing me. I'm sure he meant no insult to your people."

"I would not call it 'teasing', Lady, and he _did_ offer an insult - to _you_. If you ever change your mind…" The thought was left hanging as it suddenly occurred to Nuada that even those words gave away too much. He could only pray she wouldn't ask why he considered her cousin's comments an insult when only the day before he himself had heaped much worse upon her.

But luck was with him. Elfraine forgot all about her cousin's teasing and just about everything else as well. Nuada was offering himself as her champion and her heart skipped a beat. She laid her hands on his chest as she looked up at him and filled the silence. "Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry I said you weren't a gentleman. You're every inch the cavalier, and far too generous to an artless, earth-vexing baggage like me." Standing on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his, a slow, gentle kiss this time.

Nuada closed his eyes and surrendered to her touch as her warmth wound itself around him, weaving through his heart and pulling him in. Every fibre of his being was concentrated on the soft glide of her lips as they moved over his, on the heat of her palms as they pressed into his chest, and on the feel of her in his arms, the fit of her curves against his body. When she finally drew back, they were both left struggling for breath.

"And you needn't worry about Hal," she said, a little unsteadily. "I paid him back, in a way, in my tenth summer."

Nuada reached up and pushed her hair away from her face, a lingering caress as he strove for an even tone. "I should have known you would. I imagine you were a most resourceful child."

Her lips quirked. " 'Resourceful' is not the word Hal used. Not that you need to kill him for it," she added hastily before rushing on. "It was Midsummer, as it happens. We had gone down to the commons that evening, to join the villagers in the revels as we did every year. Uncle Rowland, Hal's father and my guardian, soon found better company, as did my cousin, and I was left to my own devices, along with the other children. We had just succeeded in making real nuisances of ourselves, baiting the young maidens dancing around the maypole, when I saw Hal snatch up the hand of one of the fiddlers and pull her away to the other side of the wakefyre, near the forest. Of course, I followed straight away."

"Of course," murmured Nuada; he now had a good idea where her story was going.

"I ran for the trees," Elfraine continued," and made my way around, as close as I could to where they were standing. I could see well enough – the moon being only a few nights past full – but the wind was at my back and I couldn't hear much of what they were saying. I did, however, catch the words 'fairest of faeries', 'Usher's Well', 'witching time', and – the most words of all – 'wilt thou meetest me sweeting'. I knew then that Hal had somehow found out the Faerie Court was to ride by Usher's Well at midnight and was asking his sweetheart to go with him and spy on them. I was very cross with him because he knew _I _wanted to see them more than anything in the world and he hadn't told _me_ he'd discovered where they were trooping that night."

An image flashed through Nuada's mind, of an irate, young Elfraine about to thwart her perfidious cousin's plans for a Midsummer's night tryst. For it was obvious to him what Henry Somerled had really been up to that night, and though her words should have been a spark to tinder – because even in the human year of 1590, it had been many centuries since the _Marcra Sióg_ had ridden, all thanks to mankind… and _Rí_ Balor, his father – to his surprise, Nuada found himself awaiting the climax of her story with keen anticipation instead. She didn't disappoint.

"So, I took myself off to Usher's Well - a natural spring, about a mile or so deep in the forest - and I waited. Hal and _sweeting_ arrived in due course, all merry kissing and fondling, and I made myself known to them. The merry kissing and fondling stopped, and all of a sudden it was _they_ who were cross with _me! _Especially when I told them I would stay with them to watch the Faerie Court and I would not leave until I'd seen it, even if I had to sit there _all_ night."

Nuada's lips curled in amusement.

Elfraine gave him a rueful look. "I didn't realise why they were so upset with me until several years later, when I was older. Anyway, Hal blustered for a while, but to no effect, and once his ladylove saw there was no getting rid of me, she left in a temper. Hal had recovered his by then and so he said he'd sit with me whilst I waited." Her voice became wistful. "We talked for a while and then the next thing I remember, it was daybreak. For all my determination, I'd fallen asleep and missed the procession."

"You missed nothing, Elfraine," said Nuada gently. "By 1590, the Faerie Court no longer rode. It was as well you got your sleep that night."

"Oh." The lines of the past slipped and blurred, and Elfraine felt suddenly flat at his words. "Are – are you sure? I was certain they'd ridden by. I mean, Hal never teased me about it afterwards and I took that as a sure sign I'd missed them. Like you, he told me I hadn't but I always thought he only said so to spare my feelings. You might find it hard to believe, but he's not truly heartless and he always had a care for me when it came to the things that really mattered."

"Such as seeing the Faerie Court when you were ten years old," murmured Nuada.

She nodded.

"I am sure they did not ride that night, Elfraine, and I'm sorry too that you never got the chance to see them… though perhaps it was just as well you didn't."

She stared at him in surprise, not quite certain how to take that last part; his words somehow stung. "I – I don't…" It was then that she noticed the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips. "What do you mean?" she demanded suspiciously.

"I have been corrected in my thinking lately" – he gave her a pointed look – "and I now know that if there was ever a human child my people might have been inclined to take, it would have been _you_."

Her smile of delight warmed him to the core and spurred him on. "Had the _Marcra Sióg _still travelled abroad in those days and had I still ridden with them, I would have taken you up before me on my horse the instant I laid eyes on you." The words were said with more feeling than he'd intended but his luck held; she didn't press him on it.

Instead, her look grew dreamy as her mind travelled back over the centuries to that long ago night in Usher's Well. In this remembering though, there was no falling asleep but rather a handsome elven prince on a -

She paused and frowned. "What colour was your horse?"

"What?" Nuada had been watching the expressions flit across her face and her question startled him.

"What colour would your horse have been? Had you ridden by that night."

He had no idea so he picked the colour of a favourite mount from his younger days. "White."

"Describe her tack. If you please, Nuada."

"As you command, milady," he murmured sardonically. "_His_ tack would have been made of the finest leather – black, and tooled in silver and magic with the sacred symbols of my people. His bridle would have been strung with silver bells…"

"Oh!" broke in Elfraine. "Like the one Allison gave me for Blythe, when she sent me after the dragon!"

He recalled that she had written in her diaries of a belled bridle given to her by the witch for her horse before she set out on her quest. "Perhaps," he replied, noncommittally. "Though Enbhárr had no need of an enchanted bridle to make him fly like the wind."

"Enbhárr?"

"My stallion. Enbhárr of the Flowing Mane."

"What a beautiful name," she whispered, captivated by an image of a moon-white horse and pale-skinned rider, mane and hair streaming silver under starlight as they raced through the night.

"He was a gift from _Athair_, and the best horse that ever carried me. On Midsummer's Eve, I would brush his coat until it glowed and put braids in his mane. Nuala would weave the wildflowers of summer in amongst them, and into her horse's mane too: hollyhocks, poppies, bluebells and musk-mallow. And she would twist ivy around their bridles, between the silver bells." A small smile touched his lips as memory flooded back. "Though I would tell her a warrior needed no other adornment than his war braids, every year she would insist on putting flowers in my hair as well as in her own. And every year, I would let her."

Elfraine smiled at the admission. To her image of a moon-white steed and pale-skinned horseman, she added bright flashes of colour, and a second rider: the Elf King's daughter, also mounted on a white steed, and wearing a cloak washed in moonbeams and on her head a gold star nestled amongst a crown of flowers. "I would have made a very grubby addition to your party had you taken me up, Nuada," she murmured.

"You would have been the fairest flower of all, Lady." Strong, lean fingers traced the curve of her cheek as he spoke. To his relief, he succeeded in keeping his tone light this time.

"No, I would not," she demurred, leaning into his touch. "Though I thank you for saying so. If I remember rightly, by the time I set out for Usher's Well, I had grass stains on my skirts, dirt on my elbows and knees, and my ringlets had no doubt escaped their ribbons. I was always being scolded for not keeping my clothes clean and my hair tidy. You would have thought me a weed!"

"All plants have their place in Nature, _mhuirnín_. It is only your kind who call some weeds and pull them out. The life -"

He stopped short; a light tone was impossible for what he'd been about to say and his luck would have surely run out with the words. He quickly changed tack. "For the life of me, I cannot think why you would worry about your appearance but had you done so, my sister would have been more than happy to fuss over you and retie your ribbons." _Though the life shining in your eyes would have been beauty enough to earn you a place in the _Marcra Sióg_ had we ridden that night._

Elfraine's lips curved in a brief smile as she accepted the elven princess's imaginary assistance before moving on. "What would you have done with Hal?"

Nuada clenched his jaw; he knew what he would have _liked_ to do with her cousin. He searched his mind instead for something that might satisfy both the ten year-old girl Elfraine had been and the woman she was now. "I would have blown _Deannaigh an __Óir_ – faerie dust – in his face so it was _he_ who slept until dawn and not you," he replied tersely.

"Oh! Faerie dust!" She was clearly taken by the idea. His tone – and lie - passed unremarked. With an approving nod, she continued. "And having stolen me -"

"- _borrowed_ you -"

"- what would we have done then?"

He opened his mouth to reply, and then shut it. He wanted to give her more than a mere catalogue of events, he realised. More than whittled down words, devoid of feeling and life. But too many of the old ways had vanished, and the joy he'd once found in the Midsummer rituals of his people had turned to ashes long before Elfraine had ever been born. Closing his eyes, Nuada filled his lungs with the cold, night air and reached back over the millennia, trying to recapture some of the youthful excitement and elation he'd felt in those early days… before tradition – and happiness – had been swept away by an eternity's worth of sorrow and loss.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," said Elfraine quietly, breaking in on his thoughts.

He caught the touch of disappointment in her tone and his eyes flew open. "Ah, but I do want to tell you, Lady. I just want to find the right… words." As he looked down into her face, a picture of anticipation, long-forgotten feelings started to stir.

"We – we would have ridden through the night," he started, his voice sounding awkward to his own ears. "Under the moon and stars, with the wind in our hair and the fire of magic burning in our veins."

"There would have been none in mine," she murmured wistfully. "Not then."

He shook his head. "It would not have mattered, _mhuirnín, _not on a night like that when the very air itself would have been alive with magic, and every breath you took filled with it." The words came more easily now as feelings he'd thought long-dead surged with new life. "We would have ridden to the sacred places – the whispering groves and lone, gnarled trees, the still pools and fast-flowing rivers, the rocks and hills… old Gods all, come to earth." A small smile played about his lips. "We would have ridden to the very stars themselves - the crucibles of all Creation – were we able to. On nights such as that, time had no meaning and there was time aplenty… the eternity that dwells in moments. For though we are immortal, the passing of time still weighs on us and we found both respite and joy in such spaces… in our worship of the old Gods, of Nature… in our remembering, our dreaming."

Elfraine was spellbound; she hardly dared draw breath for fear of shattering the enchantment he wove with his words. A yearning ache rose up in her heart – for cool, green forests, crystal-clear pools, and dark, rushing rivers; for a night when the air hummed with magic and ancient Gods moved through nature. For a way of life – a world – that had vanished before she ever drew breath. If _she_ felt this way, then how must Nuada himself mourn the passing of those days?

"And then, when the magic was at its strongest," he continued, "_Athair_ would lead the court to one of the ancient trees – an oak or a yew – and there we would stop. To sing and dance… to celebrate and feast. Those who had instruments would bring them out and the music of my people would fill the air: the beat of the _bodhrán_ drum and bones, _an Cnámha__, _in time with the rhythms of the earth; the _cruiteanna – _harps – and fiddles, singing on the wind. And the silver flutes and horns, and _an_ _Craobh ceoil_ – a musical branch, silver bells on hawthorn – their sweet, clear notes ringing out to the vault of the sky."

Elfraine was certain she could hear the lilting music of the elves skipping through his words, and she strained to catch it. As his voice wove its spell, she swayed into him.

"Others of us would dance," he said.

Her mouth formed a silent "oh" and her eyes lit up.

On impulse he released her and took a step back. "Come dance with me, mistress," he said, holding out a hand to her.

The breath caught in her throat at his boyish expression. It was how he must have looked when he was young, she thought. With a delighted smile, she dipped him a quick curtsey and placed her hand in his.

In one swift, fluid motion, he pulled her back in and wrapped his other arm around her waist then lifted her off her feet and spun her round in a circle. Giving her no time to catch her breath, or her balance, he danced her halfway along the rooftop and back again.

Elfraine could only cling to his shoulders as she was swept along by the powerful press of his body and when they returned to where they had started, he lifted her up and spun her round once more before coming to a halt. He held her fast, steadying her so she didn't stumble. With a breathless laugh, she stood on tiptoe to kiss him but he swiftly raised their joined hands and pressed them to her lips, stopping her dead. The wicked glint in his eyes told her he was up to something, and she tilted her head in silent question as she dropped back to her heels.

"You would have been ten years old, mistress," he replied, lowering their clasped hands. "I would _not_ have kissed you."

She huffed with annoyance, and the corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "I would, however, have led you to the feast and made sure you were well-fed."

"Hmm. I suppose when I was ten that would have been better than a kiss anyway," she said grudgingly. "Lead on, Prince Nuada!"

"Milady." He bowed his head in wry acquiescence. "After we had danced -"

"- but not kissed," she muttered.

"I would have sat you comfortably under a greenwood tree and gotten our food. Whilst we ate, some of the older ones amongst us would have told the tales from days gone by… from the years when the world was young." His voice dropped to a low murmur. "A time when our ancient heroes performed epic feats… when the skies were filled with dragons… and when elementals roamed the earth."

"Elementals?" she whispered.

"Vast, beautiful creatures. Ageless. Eternal. Each one made from one of the four elements – earth, wind, fire or water – and all infused with the fifth, aether, which along with magic gave them their form and their powers. I -" He stopped abruptly; memory – and guilt – bit deep, and his eyes cut to the dark expanse of the river, away from Elfraine's clear gaze. Yesterday, one of their exchanges had brought to mind the ancient forest god he'd unleashed in this land four years ago. He'd been quick to push the stinging recollection aside, choosing instead to excoriate _her_ for the trivial matter of calling one of the great dragons a 'sly wyrm'. Now, however, his anger could find no target but himself. His voice was harsh and flat when he spoke again. "There are none left anymore. The last of their kind has gone from this world and we will never see their like again."

Elfraine's heart twisted at his sudden change of mood. "You - you thought the same thing about dragons," she pointed out, "and you were mistaken there. Perhaps there's an elemental somewhere who managed to escape the ravages of my kind."

Gold eyes cut to brown. "_Your_ kind?" He gave a short, bitter laugh. "_I_ was the one who sent the last of them to its death and it was not _your_ kind that killed it! At least, not entirely."

"Oh!" she couldn't help her small gasp of shock. "I – I…" She had no idea what to say.

Guilt rode him hard again, for a different reason this time, and he strove to find an even tone once more. "Forgive me Lady. I have ruined your - your Midsummer's night… dream."

Elfraine quickly recovered her poise and regarded him steadily. "Will you tell me what happened?" she asked softly.

He wanted to tell her, he realised… talk it out with her. He was desperate to somehow negotiate a path through the blind fury that had impelled him to let loose the ancient elemental in the first place and the burning shame he now felt at compounding the loss of Mr. Wink with that of another unique and irreplaceable creature. But more than anything, he wanted to escape the chains of the past, the chains of the day that had just been, and recapture the light-hearted feeling of only a few moments ago. "Not – not now, Elfraine," he said. "Not tonight. There has been too much grief and guilt already this day…" His voice trailed off.

She reached up and touched his face. "I know love. So much has happened, and you more than anyone have had weight after weight heaped on your shoulders. Your sister was taken by a cold-blooded murderer, though thankfully you have her back now. You found and lost a son – you lost his mother too, for a second time – and many of your people in the market lost their lives and all of them their refuge." _And in a fitting end to the day, you were burdened with a love you never asked for._ She did her best to ignore the insidious thought. "If - if you want to talk, I'll listen and if you don't, then we won't."

He took her hand from his cheek and carried it to his lips. "Thank you Lady. Your load was not light today either, I know." His mouth lingered against her skin as his eyes sought and held hers. "But not everything has been a burden."

His words startled her; they fitted so neatly with her unspoken thought that she wondered if she hadn't actually said it out loud. Of its own volition, hope flared anew.

"Your company has made this day more bearable." It was true enough and safe enough… and nowhere near enough. He wished with all his heart he could say more.

_Her company! _Elfraine managed a polite smile in response to the polite compliment but as she stared up into his shadowed eyes, her disappointment melted away. She wanted to lift some of the weight off his shoulders, if only for a little while… wanted to see that carefree expression on his face again, more than she wanted to poke at her own festering sores. On impulse, she shot him a look that invited him to play and tilted her head back a little further, offering him her lips. "I've heard tell a _kiss_ can make things more bearable too."

Though he was happy to be distracted – more than happy – Nuada was immediately on his guard. He slowly lowered his mouth to hers, wondering where on earth she was leading him. With little more than an inch separating them, he stopped. Her eyes were still open. That, more than anything, told him he was about to fall into whatever trap she'd just laid for him. She made an impatient sound at the delay, and the image of a young girl – cross with her cousin and wanting to see the Faerie Court – flashed through his mind. He drew back and looked down at her sharply. "We are not perchance back in 1590 again, are we?"

The sparkle in her eyes confirmed that they were. "You didn't say how the night would end. We _have_ to go back – to see it out."

The beginnings of a smile tugged at his lips. "Very well then Elfraine. But there will be no kissing."

She pouted and almost got what she was after but Nuada managed to hold his ground. He picked up where he had left off. "When the feasting had finished, the younger members of the court would have been sent home to their beds and those of us who were fully grown would have continued our revels." There was a definite lift to his lips now and he waited with anticipation for her reaction.

"What? No!"

His smile grew at her obvious disbelief.

"It – it _can't_ have ended so quickly. Why couldn't I have stayed and danced some more?"

"It would have been late enough for a ten year-old girl. I would have delivered you home safely to your bed and bid you good night."

She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off. "And had you protested, I would have blown faerie dust in _your_ face. You would have been asleep in an instant."

Her mouth snapped shut and her brows drew together. She no longer looked so taken by the idea of faerie dust.

Nuada watched closely as she wrestled with his strictures, confident that she had no option but to accept them.

Instead, her expression suddenly cleared and her eyes flew to his in triumph.

His own eyes narrowed.

"Now that I think on it, I would have been about seventeen or eighteen!"

"Still too young," he pronounced firmly.

She ignored him. "I could have stayed up all night if I wanted to and we could have kissed to our hearts' content. And a lot more besides."

"You would have still been too young," he repeated.

"I was a widow at seventeen," she reminded him stubbornly, "and had I been any older than eighteen, I would have been married to Geoffrey. I would _not_ have been too young Nuada. I'm surprised you're such a prude."

_Prude_! He swiftly changed his mind. She could stay, if only so he could find some way to pay her back for that. "Very well then Elfraine. I would _not_ have taken you home to bed." He immediately cursed his choice of words, and then cursed them again as she taunted him with a knowing look. He let them stand, however, and forged on. "But you would have been eighteen and _not_ seventeen. In deference to my _prudish_ nature."

She ducked her head to hide her smile but he caught hold of her chin and raised her face. "After the _well-behaved _maidens and youths had been sent safely home -"

"Which only proves that it doesn't always pay to be well-behaved."

His lips twitched but he carried on as if she hadn't spoken. "We would have danced for a while longer, and there would have been singing too."

"Oh! I like singing!" Her smile became whimsical as she thought of the Elven court, their voices raised in glorious harmony. She was sure they must have sounded as beautiful as they no doubt looked. A sudden thought occurred to her. "Would you have sung, Nuada?" She was curious. He could be aloof and forbidding, she knew, and it was difficult to imagine him setting aside his natural reserve and singing in company. But then again, the company she'd seen him in so far had not, for the most part, been of his choosing.

"Yes. Of course I would have sung," he replied, to her surprise. "_Both_ Nuala and I would have. We were favourites with the court, especially when we sang together."

Elfraine's imagination took flight once more and a dreamy expression settled on her face as she pictured the pair of them standing under an ancient, spreading oak in a cool forest glade. She added a rushing river and some swirling pools, a soft summer breeze and a star-studded sky, and the busy sounds of the night: owls hooting in the trees and the rustling of small, foraging creatures in the undergrowth. Sitting scattered around the meadow and looking resplendent in their finery, were the lords and ladies of the Faerie Court. The minstrels had just struck up a tune and the Elven prince and princess were about to sing. Nuala's moonbeam cloak shimmered and swayed about her tall, graceful frame, and the gold star on her head cast a soft, warming glow on her fair brow. Nuada –

Elfraine's flight of fancy came to an abrupt halt and she frowned.

"What's wrong, Lady?"

"Nuala would have had her beautiful cloak and a gold star," she explained, "but I have no idea what _you_ would have been wearing."

Nuada was a little taken aback; they'd been talking about singing, not clothes, and he was certain he hadn't said anything about his sister wearing a cloak. As for the gold star, that was a complete mystery.

Elfraine leaned back and cast a critical eye over him. "Though black suits you very well and you look more handsome in it than anyone surely has a right to, I can't help but think you would have worn something more… _ceremonial_ when you rode with the Faerie Court at Midsummer."

He felt a stab of satisfaction at her praise. It was plain to him too that she had moved on from the singing and, having obviously dressed his sister, was now attempting to dress him. "Perhaps a cloak like Nuala's," he suggested smoothly. "And my thanks for the compliment."

"You're welcome." A pretty smile flitted across her face before she turned her attention to his idea. She considered it, and quickly dismissed it. "No. I don't think so. I can't picture you wearing something as delicate as a moonbeam cloak."

_Moonbeam_ cloak! Nuada raised his brow.

"You could have certainly had a gold star on your head though - like Nuala," she continued. "It would have gone well with the flowers in your hair."

That explained the star then.

"Oh! I have it!" she exclaimed abruptly, her eyes widening with excitement. "The silver coat you wore in Köthen, at Leopold's court. _That's_ what you would have worn. And the black, satin breeches too. And the riding boots. But not the waistcoat and not the shirt."

"It's an outfit I have recently been reacquainted with," he murmured dryly, "though without the waistcoat and shirt, it could hardly be called 'ceremonial'."

"That's just your prudish nature talking Nuada."

So she was back to that, was she?

"It would have been ceremonial enough for my purposes." She flashed him a saucy smile.

Her purposes! Though he had no doubt they would both get a great deal of enjoyment out of _her purposes_, Nuada decided it was time to take charge of his wardrobe once more. And maybe repay her in some small way for her impertinence. With those thoughts in mind, his mouth curved in a slow, lazy smile, and a wicked glint lit up his eyes.

She was suddenly distracted by his look.

"You are to be commended, Elfraine," he said, turning her name into a caress.

A slow, warm feeling started to burn in the pit of her stomach.

"You have obviously given the matter of our clothing much thought." He bent his dark lips to the steady pulse at the base of her neck and lingered there for a moment.

She shivered at the light, teasing touch and her pulse sped up.

"But you are wrong about moonbeam cloaks, silver coats and stars of gold," he murmured between kisses as he made his way up to her jaw and then over her cheek to her ear. He grazed the soft, plump lobe with his teeth and she drew in a sharp breath of delight. "Shall I tell you what we wore, _mhuirnín?_"

Suddenly, Elfraine was barely able to think, let alone answer… not with his words whispering hot against her skin and his low, husky tones sending delicious shivers coursing through her body. She ran her hands up his chest and swayed into him with a small moan.

His arms tightened around her and he smiled into her hair, savouring both the warm press of her curves and his own moment of triumph. "I gather that is a 'yes'." He slid his hands to her waist and pulled back a little as he lifted his head.

She thought she might melt at the sensual look on his face. Her lips parted in silent invitation and her eyelids started to drift shut. She was no longer concerned with what Nuada and his sister and the rest of the Elven Court might have worn; they could have been in rags for all she cared.

"We rode as Nature made us, Elfraine." His voice dropped to an intimate whisper. "_Naked_."

For a split second she froze, not at all certain she'd heard him right, and then her mind went to work with a vengeance. She opened her eyes, and shut them again, and then gasped in disbelief as her image of the Midsummer's scene shifted sharply. Nuala's moonbeam cloak vanished, and the Elven princess after it. The rest of the Faerie Court loomed in sharp focus for a brief moment, and then they too disappeared. The meadow-grass and trees, the rocks and pools – the very stars themselves – all faded into the background until only one sight remained: Nuada… sitting naked astride a rearing, white stallion with braids and flowers in its mane. War braids and flowers adorned the Elven warrior's long, flowing hair too, bathed silver in the moonlight. Elfraine's eyes slowly traced the lines of his stone-chiselled, battle-hardened body, travelling over broad shoulders and well-defined biceps, across a firm, muscular chest and down the ridges of a taut, toned stomach. Finally, they came to rest on lean hips and marble-hewn thighs, which gripped the horse's flanks as he held his seat. She stood on tiptoe to get a better view.

"Elfraine," he murmured… seductively, to her ears. The low rumble of his voice made her knees go weak and she had to lower her heels as she clutched at the strong arms which held her.

"Elfraine?" he repeated, giving her a gentle shake.

Her eyes flew open; she was immediately caught by his triumphant, flame-gold gaze.

"You have not just discovered that you are a prude as well, have you Lady?"

The words washed over her. Those eyes were the only stars she'd ever need, she thought as she looked up at him. She rolled her hips into his and said the thing that was uppermost in her mind. "I want to see you on a horse, Nuada. Naked."

That look she had been after – the carefree, boyish one – flashed across his face, and then the desire in her voice and the feel of her body pulled him in. He rocked back against her, pressing his growing hardness into her soft, welcoming flesh, and bent his head to hers. His mouth hovered teasingly over her lips, his breath a warm, feather-light whisper. "Only if you join me, Elfraine. Naked."

"Oh! Yes!" she gasped and finally, he kissed her properly, slanting his mouth over hers and then deepening the kiss. With one arm wrapped tightly around her back and his other hand splayed across her backside, he nudged his knee between her legs and settled her on his thigh.

Without warning, an ear-splitting crash came from the direction of the rooftop door. Nuada and Elfraine both jumped, their haze of desire vanishing in a rush of confusion. They looked towards the sound but a row of large air-conditioning units blocked their view. Nuada recovered first. He swiftly set Elfraine back and stepped in front of her, flexing his hands as he prepared to meet the threat. He caught the sound of running feet: something small and light. It was heading for the other side of the rooftop, _away_ from them. In the next instant, a high-pitched squeal of… _excitement_ came from the other side of the air conditioners. It was quickly followed by the frantic yells of two familiar voices.

"Daman!"

"Stop!"

Nuada sprinted forward, past the large, steel units and out into the open. He glanced to the right, towards the rooftop entrance, and saw Anung un Rama and Elizabeth Sherman trying to fit though the small doorway at the same time. The demon held his young daughter in his arms. To the left of Nuada was the fleeing figure of the demon's son, laughing with delight at having escaped his parents and running just as fast as his three year-old legs could carry him. He showed no sign of slowing down either as he came to within an arm's length of the edge of the roof and the precipitous drop below…

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:  
><strong>

Athair: (Irish Gaelic) Father.

Azenzêr: (Amazigh – Berber) boy's name meaning 'sunray' or 'sunshine'.

Blythe: (Middle English name, pronounced 'bleeth') carefree, joyous.

Cearul (KAR-ul): (Irish Gaelic) name meaning 'fierce in battle'.

Deannaigh an Óir: (Irish Gaelic) The Golden Dust (what I imagine faerie dust might look like.)

Enbhárr: (Irish mythology) also Enbarr, Aonbárr. Enbhárr of the Flowing Mane, or Enbhárr of the One Mane, was the name of the horse lent to Lugh Lamh-fada by Manannán mac Lir (an Irish sea deity). It could travel over both land and sea. Some sources have it as a mare, others as a stallion.

Bodhrán, Cnámha, Corn, Craobh ceoil, Cruit, Fidil, Fliúit: (traditional Irish musical instruments), Grattan Flood, William H., _A History of Irish Music, _(1905), 3rd Ed., Dodo Press (2008). See Chapter 3, 'Ancient Irish Musical Instruments'. _Cnámha_ ('bones' - castanets), _Corn_ (horn), _Craobh ceoil _('musical branch' – a set of small bells of differing sizes, hung together in a frame – Grattan Flood uses the term 'craebh ciuil'), _Cruit_ (small harp_),_ _Fidil _(fiddle), _Fliúit_ (flute or fife – Grattan Flood uses the term 'feadan_'_). Also, _bodhrán_ – single-headed frame drum.

Marcra Sióg: (Irish Gaelic) Faerie Cavalcade, Elven Cavalcade.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

Rí: (Irish Gaelic) King.

The elements: in classical thought, the simplest parts that constitute everything in existence. They usually comprise earth, wind, fire and water. A fifth element is sometimes added, aether, which describes that which exists beyond the material world.

Trees mentioned: Oak – a tree much worshipped in European mythologies, and one with a wide range of magical powers, for example, carrying an acorn in your pocket preserves youth. Yew – a sacred tree in many old European mythologies, it is a symbol of everlasting life. Hawthorn – a tree associated with the old Beltane rites and fertility, and the return of summer; hawthorn was often used for maypoles and also for the wreath of the Green Man (the spirit of the woods.)

Trooping Faeries: one of two divisions of faeries used by William Butler Yeats in _Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry _(1888), the other being Solitary Faeries. Trooping Faeries appear in wondrous processions and include the aristocracy of their world, for example, the Irish _Aes Sídhe_, along with faeries of lesser importance. They can be of any size, and are either friendly… or not.

Usher's Well: see Child's Ballad #79, 'The Wife of Usher's Well', and Steeleye Span's version of that song.


	56. Chapter 55

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Chapter 55**

Nuada's reaction was instinctive; he used the ancient ley lines of his people – the unseen paths of magic – and in the space of a heartbeat he was crouching on the low ledge of the roof, steadying himself with one hand against the cold, stone surface as the demon's youngling barrelled into his chest at full tilt. It happened so quickly that he didn't have time to brace for the impact. Though the child's flight was brought to an abrupt, bone-jarring halt, the momentum knocked Nuada off balance. He tried to recover but in the very instant he realised he was not going to be able to, the Right Hand of Doom seized him roughly by the shoulder and yanked him to safety, away from the edge of the roof. He narrowly avoided landing on Anung un Rama's now-wailing son as he pitched forward. Rolling into the fall, he swiftly gained his feet as the demon gathered up the child.

"Hey, buddy," said Hellboy, trying to soothe his distressed son. He glanced up and nodded to Nuada. "Thanks, prince. I owe you." The words hardly seemed adequate to express the overpowering sense of relief he felt.

Daman wailed even more loudly.

"We both do," gasped Liz who had raced up to them just in time to hear Red's words. Manoeuvring past his all-enveloping frame, she wrapped her arms around her pyjama-clad son and gave him a long, fierce hug.

Hellboy quickly scanned the rooftop for their daughter. He and Liz had disentangled themselves from the doorway in no time flat and she'd taken Aithne whilst he sprinted off after Daman. He relaxed a little as he saw Elfraine hurrying towards them; she had the little girl in her arms now.

Daman's crying had all but stopped and after a moment or two, he shrugged off his mother's embrace. He had to make Mommy and Daddy understand. Turning in his father's arms, he fixed Nuada with a tearful gaze and pointed an accusatory finger. "Mean ol' elf hurted me!" He looked expectantly at his parents and waited for them to give the elf a good telling off.

"Oh, honey!" said Liz, ruffling his dark curls. "He saved you from an even bigger hurt." Her voice became gently chiding. "And remember your manners, Daman. It's rude to call people names. You know the proper way to speak to Prince Nuada."

Hellboy winced. 'Mean ol' elf' was what _he_ called the prince whenever the kids looked puzzled by Nuada's distinct lack of friendliness. They couldn't understand why he wasn't more like his sister, the princess. She was always happy to play with them.

"But -" The little boy stopped and gave his father that self-same puzzled look now.

"Mom's right," said Hellboy quickly before Daman could say anything else. He stepped around a frowning Nuada and walked up to the edge of the roof. Father and son both stared down at the hard, flat ground below. "Remember how you fell off the slide at home and hurt your knee, just before we came here?"

Daman nodded vigorously. He'd had a very sore knee for days, and it had turned all sorts of strange and interesting colours.

"Well," continued Hellboy, "you would have fallen straight over the edge of this roof if the prince hadn't stopped you, and this roof is _way_ higher than the slide at home."

Daman's cinnabar eyes grew round as saucers. He didn't need it spelled out for him that his knee would have been way sorer too if he'd fallen off the roof. He glanced over his father's shoulder at the Elven prince, his look full of uncertainty.

Nuada had been watching the interaction between father and son intently, and was quick to recognise the boy's confusion for what it was. "I am sorry if I hurt you, child. I did not mean to."

Daman was beset by a sudden shyness; those were the most words the tall, fierce-looking elf had ever spoken to him and it was disconcerting. He hid his face in his father's neck. "Awright," he mumbled.

As Hellboy moved away from the ledge he saw that Elfraine had reached them and was handing Aithne over to Liz. "And Daman," he murmured to his son. "When Mom or I say 'stop', you stop. OK?"

"Yes Daddy," was the subdued reply.

Having given Aithne back to Liz, Elfraine hastened to Nuada's side and seized hold of his arm. "I'm glad you're all right," she murmured. "I thought you were going to fall." In truth, she'd been terrified and for a split second the dragon magic had raged unbearably. Her hands had turned that strange, silvery-white colour too. The only thing which had grounded her was Aithne, who had been swiftly deposited in her arms by a similarly frantic Liz a moment earlier.

Nuada saw the distress in her eyes and covered her hand with his. Though he wouldn't have her suffer even a moment's unease on his account, he couldn't deny that her concern meant a great deal to him. He was dismayed at just how much he wanted it, how much it warmed him, in spite of the ultimate futility of such feelings. Yesterday, when she'd shown a similar concern for his fate, he had accepted everything she'd offered without hesitation. But he hadn't loved her then and he'd been in no danger of betraying anyone or anything… He gazed down at their joined hands as he spoke. "There was no need to worry, Elfraine. Even if the demon had not been so quick, I wouldn't have fallen."

He risked a look at her. Her face was still drawn with anxiety and he couldn't help himself; he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. "Safe ground was only ever a thought away. So long as I had not yet fallen, I would have been back at your side in an instant."

_So long as he hadn't fallen_… The words weren't exactly comforting. "You'll have to explain to me how that particular piece of magic works," she muttered, leaning into the solid, comforting warmth of him

Before he could reply, an excited squeal from Aithne claimed their attention.

"I _got_ you! I _got_ you!" cried the little girl triumphantly as she reached up high and snatched at the air, first with one hand and then with the other. She almost fell out of her mother's arms.

"No, no, no," wailed Daman. He started grabbing wildly at the sky.

"What's wrong, buddy?" asked Hellboy patiently.

Daman stared at his empty hands and answered his father in a forlorn little voice. "Aifne got _all_ da stars. I got none."

Everyone glanced up to the heavens. Though he was wrong in blaming his sister for it, Daman was right about one thing; there was not a single star to be seen now. The neon glow of the city and a high cover of cloud obscured them from view.

Daman was the picture of misery as he gazed at his sister's clenched fists. His own curled reflexively.

Hugging her arms close to her chest, Aithne turned beseeching eyes to her parents. If past experience was anything to go by, they were about to make her give up one of her stars and she really didn't want to do that; there were no more left and Daman would only get it dirty.

Hellboy and Liz exchanged a look of long-suffering; they knew exactly what they were in for. But before Liz could open her mouth to negotiate with her daughter for the release of one of the imaginary stars, Nuada spoke.

"What have you got there, child?" He stared at Daman's balled fists.

The little boy was immediately distracted; his eyes flew to his hands and he cried out in surprise. A low gasp rose up from the others as well. A soft, golden glow shone out from the gaps in one of Daman's small fists, and his eyes went wide with wonder as he slowly and carefully uncurled his fingers to reveal a small, sparkling sphere of light. It made his hand tingle and he nearly dropped it as he whipped round excitedly to show his father. "I _got_ one!"

Elfraine looked up at Nuada. The shimmering orb was very much like the one he had used earlier to tame the wind. He didn't seem at all surprised to see it in Daman's hands now. Glancing down, he met her gaze. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, almost self-conscious smile. Elfraine smiled back, a warm look of approval, and he relaxed a little. Turning his attention to the others again, he discovered that the demon and the firestarter were both watching him closely.

"Mommy?" said Aithne. Her voice trembled with uncertainty and tears welled up in her eyes. She wanted a star like Daman's.

Liz bit back a sigh. She nodded towards her daughter and tried to silently convey to Nuada that he should do something quickly to avert the impending calamity.

He got the message. Inclining his head in wry acknowledgement, he flexed his fingers and murmured a word of summoning under his breath.

"Hey! Take a look at _your_ hand, honey," Hellboy said to his daughter.

Aithne did as she was told. Her mouth formed a silent 'oh' and her tears immediately dried up. Light now shone from the gaps between _her_ fingers and she quickly opened her fist; she had a star just like Daman's. Her face was wreathed in a smile of utter joy, and she and her brother started chattering excitedly to one another about the wondrous, glittering spheres.

"I want one!" said Elfraine abruptly. She held out her hand and stared up at Nuada with hopeful eyes. "Please?"

Liz adjusted Aithne on her hip and followed suit. "Me too, please!"

Nuada arched a brow in cool amusement as he complied with the women's requests. In the next instant, Elfraine and Liz were each in happy possession of a delicate, sparkling ball of light.

Aithne and Daman stopped talking and looked at Nuada, awestruck. _He_ had caught the stars! They wondered how many more he had. Then it suddenly occurred to them that someone didn't have one. "Daddy's turn! Daddy's turn!" they cried in unison.

Nuada balked; there was absolutely nothing amusing about _that_ request.

Hellboy found himself in complete agreement with the prince for a change; there was no way he was going to accept a piece of magic bling from him. "No thanks, kids," he said. He found himself the object of four disbelieving pairs of eyes.

Daman's little forehead creased with worry and he stuck his star under his father's nose. "Daddy! You have my star."

Hellboy restrained a groan; he'd just been backed into a corner and he knew it. There was only one thing to do. Shifting his son's weight onto his left arm, he gritted his teeth and stuck out the Right Hand of Doom to the prince. It had never felt so heavy.

Nuada's brows snapped together and his lips compressed in a thin line; he was _not_ going to do any such thing. His mouth remained firmly shut and his fist resolutely clenched at his side. All of a sudden, _he_ was the object of four pairs of eyes, two lit up with galling amusement and two watching on with innocent expectation. He drew in a sharp hiss of breath at the sight of those last two pairs of eyes. Elfraine Somerled and Elizabeth Sherman could laugh all they liked but the children made him realise he was going to have to do the unthinkable. Throwing the demon a sour look, which was hurled back twofold, he steeled himself and muttered the word of summoning. A fifth star duly appeared.

"Thanks pal." There was no hint of sincerity in the words.

"'Tis nothing." A curt, dismissive formality in return.

The children, at least, were happy enough with the short, sharp exchange… but not for long.

After a few surreptitious glances at Nuada, Aithne worked up the courage to speak to him. "Where your star?" she demanded to know.

"I have no need of one, Mistress Aithne," he informed her.

The crestfallen look on her face told him that he did, in fact, need one and so he conceded without further ado. He ended up with not only a star for himself but with Aithne as well, the little girl having worked out that there might be more stars in the offing if she stuck close to the person who could catch them.

After she'd placed her daughter in Nuada's hesitant arms, Liz went and stood with Elfraine who had stepped back a short distance.

"I take it they couldn't sleep." Elfraine nodded towards the two children.

"Bad dreams," said Liz succinctly as they watched Aithne and Daman chattering away merrily about their amazing stars whilst Red and the prince made a point of ignoring each other. She glanced down at her own star. They _were_ pretty neat; no wonder the kids were so delighted. It was difficult to believe the bitter, hard-eyed elf had done something so nice for them. Hopefully, all the excitement would wear them out and they'd go back to sleep for whatever was left of the night though it was more likely they'd be awake until dawn now, what with getting their very own stars and all.

"They seem too happy for bad dreams," remarked Elfraine.

Liz shot her a wry look. "They've been having nightmares ever since those damn hounds attacked."

"Oh! I see." Elfraine's face creased with concern.

"They're fine during the day," continued Liz, "but for the last four – _five_ – nights now, they've woken up crying. We came up here to look at the stars tonight. Something different to distract them."

"I suppose it will be a while before they can put it behind them," Elfraine said. "They had a terrible fright."

"Yeah. I guess so," sighed Liz. "Maybe when we get back home…" She paused for a moment. "At least they believed our story that Karen had to leave to go look after her sick mom."

"Karen?" Elfraine was certain she hadn't met anyone called 'Karen' in the short time she'd been at the Bureau.

"The girl we hired to help with the kids whilst we were here. She was only nineteen."

"Oh no!" Elfraine remembered the bloody pile of flesh and bone she had seen in the family's quarters when she'd retrieved the children after the Bureau had come under attack from the Hounds of Odin and the shadow creatures. She laid a sympathetic hand on Liz's arm. "The poor young woman."

Liz looked round as realisation struck. "Of course," she said softly. "You must have seen what happened to her. When you got the kids out."

"I saw what was left of her," Elfraine confirmed. "I made sure they didn't though."

"I know. Thank you. They should have been safe here. Karen should have been safe..." Liz's voice trailed off and she looked over at her children again.

The two women stood together in silence for a few moments, each with her own thoughts as they watched the animated expressions on Aithne and Daman's faces. Hellboy and Nuada were still doing their best to ignore each other, though with the kids having lost their wariness of the Elven prince that was becoming increasingly difficult as they insisted on including him in the conversation with their father.

"You mentioned home," said Elfraine presently. "Whereabouts is that?"

"A cat ranch in Wyoming."

Elfraine thought she must have misheard. "A cattle ranch?"

"Nope. _Cat_ ranch," repeated Liz. "At least, that's what I tell Red. He crazy about cats. Seems like a new one turns up every other day, which is a bit of a mystery considering how far away our nearest neighbours are."

"Perhaps word's got out," Elfraine suggested dryly.

"That must be it," agreed Liz. "A three-star hotel for cats in the middle of nowhere."

"Not five stars then?"

"Red's already working on it," Liz assured her. "Now that he and Abe have knocked the house into shape for the rest of us and built a decent-sized tank for Abe, it's the cats' turn."

A sudden peal of laughter from the children cut across their conversation, and the women turned their attention back to the others once more.

As Liz watched them, she thought of the run-down farm house she had first laid eyes on four years ago; it was the one and only time she'd ever questioned their decision to leave the Bureau. Pregnant, and with only a vague idea of what they were going to do beyond the immediate future, she had known a moment of sheer panic at the sight of the old place but with hard work and perseverance it had been made comfortable, and with love, laughter, and friendship – and even tears – it had become the home she'd always wanted.

There was only one thing she would have changed: Nuala would never have died and Abe would have been spared four years' worth of mourning. Though he had put a brave face on things, and anyone else would have thought he was coming to terms with his loss, Liz and Red knew better. In Abe's unguarded moments, it was clear that grief was a constant companion and Nuala was always on his mind. The only time he had seemed able to escape the weight of sorrow was when he'd been around the kids. Liz wondered what he was going to do now that he had his princess back; she got the feeling that the newly-installed tank back home in Wyoming was destined to be used on a visitor-only basis.

And that disturbed Liz more than she wanted to admit, not that she wouldn't wish Abe and Nuala all the very best if they decided to strike out on their own. No, the thought of Abe leaving the farm forced her to think of her own family's situation. Even before they had been temporarily drawn back into their old lives, she had started to wonder whether they'd been wise to isolate themselves from the wider world as much as they had. When the kids were smaller it hadn't mattered so much but now they were older, she was acutely aware that their social circle needed to be wider than just each other, their parents, and Uncle Abe. Though given their unique family traits, she had no idea how that was going to work out.

And the money was starting to run out too. She and Red had each saved a good sum from their Bureau pay cheques over the years and Red's dad, Professor Bruttenholm, had left his son a comfortable inheritance. But after buying the house and land in Wyoming, carrying out the necessary renovations, and setting up college – or something – trust funds for the kids, the need to find a steady source of income had become a matter of some urgency. Neither she nor Red were afraid of hard work but therein lay the problem: what work _was_ there in the human world for two ex-Enhanced Talents agents, one a pyrokinetic, the other a big, red demon, and neither of them with any previous experience of anything other than fighting malevolent supernatural forces? And there just weren't that many job openings in _that_ line of business. They had tossed around a few ideas – from making a go of the farm to contract work for private security firms in the world's trouble spots – but each option had its downsides and they were really no further ahead on a decision…

A light touch on her arm distracted Liz from her troubling thoughts, and she swung her head round.

"That looks promising," whispered Elfraine as she gestured towards the children.

Liz turned back to the kids and realised that they were finally ready for bed. Though Aithne was fighting it, her eyelids were drooping and her determined chatter was interspersed with big yawns. Daman had given up altogether. His head was resting in the crook of his father's neck and he was quietly contemplating his star.

"And that's my cue," murmured Liz. She gave her star to Elfraine to hold and headed over to relieve Nuada of his burden.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," she said, gently stroking her daughter's hair. "Time for bed."

For a split second, Aithne looked as if she might argue but then she started to wriggle and squirm in the prince's arms and reached for her mother.

Nuada quickly handed her back to Liz and turned away.

"What do we do with the stars?"

Liz's question stopped him but before he could say anything, Daman piped up.

"Dey go back to da mommy and daddy stars." He opened his hand and waited for his star to head for home. When it didn't move, he looked expectantly at Nuada.

With a whispered word, Nuada obliged and the small, sparkling sphere of light flew straight up into the sky. His own star followed suit as did Hellboy's and the two that Elfraine held, leaving only Aithne's to go.

Once again, the little girl knew what was coming and clutched her fists to her chest. "I be da baby star's mommy," she said hopefully.

"And you'd be a good mommy too honey," Hellboy assured her. "But the real mommy will be sad if her baby doesn't come home, and so will the daddy star."

Nuada glanced over at Elfraine; her expression was tense and her smile forced. He couldn't help but think that the demon's words were uncomfortably close to the truth for the pair of them. The same thought must have occurred to her because she lifted her eyes and met his gaze. The distance between them shrank down to nothing as they shared a look of understanding, Nuada thinking of his lost son and Elfraine her lost daughter.

Aithne, meanwhile, stared glumly at her fist, digesting her father's words. Finally, she held out her hand and reluctantly uncurled her fingers. "Goodbye little star," she called out as it shot up to the heavens and joined the others.

The cloud had lifted by now and a smattering of real stars was visible in the night sky.

"See. They're all back home, safe and sound with their families," said Liz.

Aithne cheered up a little at that. Resting her head on her mother's shoulder, she gave another big yawn.

Liz caught Red's eye and gestured towards the rooftop doorway; it really was time to get the kids to bed.

He nodded in reply and she moved off but Hellboy turned back one last time. "Hey, Nuada."

The Elven prince was surprised. He hadn't thought there was anything else to be said – between them, at least. He regarded Anung un Rama suspiciously. "Yes?"

"I know I said it before but thanks for stopping Daman from going over the edge. I'm not sure I would have reached him in time." There was a slight pause. "And thanks for the stars, you know, for the kids."

Nuada searched the demon's gruff tone for any hint of insincerity and on finding none, cautiously inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"'Night," called out Liz softly. She was waiting for Hellboy by the entrance to the stairs.

He spun round and started off towards her.

"Goodnight," Elfraine replied, giving a small wave.

Hellboy reached the door and held it open for Liz and Aithne. Once they were through, he followed with Daman and the family was gone; Nuada and Elfraine had the roof to themselves again.

They stared at each other for a moment and then Nuada held out his hand to Elfraine.

She walked over and took it. "Are you alright?" she asked.

He knew exactly what she meant. "I am," he replied, squeezing her hand. "And you?"

"Yes." She squeezed his hand in return.

There was a brief pause, then they both spoke at the same time - "I -" "You -" – and stopped.

"After you, Lady," Nuada said.

"Thank you." She smiled up at him as she reminded him, "You still owe me a story."

He raised his brow in question.

"About the first time you rode with the Faerie Court at Midsummer."

"So I do," he murmured. He fixed her with a keen look. "Will I be able to finish it this time, do you think?"

"You can only do your best," she sighed, deliberately turning the implicit rebuke on its head. And then she remembered what they had been talking about before they were interrupted, and all thought of teasing him vanished. "Did you really ride naked?" she asked abruptly. The idea that he had, though still intriguing, was no longer such a novelty and other questions suddenly crowded in. "With your father? And sister? And everyone else? At – at thirteen! At _any_ age!" She sounded both scandalised and disbelieving now.

Nuada immediately saw the trap he'd made for himself and he just as quickly saw his way out of it; he went on the attack. "And this from the woman who called _me_ a prude, and told me she was old enough for kisses 'and a lot more besides' at only _seventeen_," he replied coolly.

Elfraine scowled. "You take my words out of context."

"I could say the same thing," he pointed out dryly, alluding to her earlier observation about his skill at weather-working.

She ignored that and went on the defensive. "There is a vast difference in terms of maturity between thirteen and seventeen. Unless things are different for your kind… what with you being immortal."

"From infancy to adulthood, things are much the same for my people as for yours," he told her. "It is only when we are fully grown that time starts to pass differently." He closed in for the kill. "You seem to forget that there is a 'vast difference' too between your 'lots more besides' and the relatively simple matter of what the Faerie Court did – or did not – wear. You appear to have some of your ideas a little back to front."

He was right of course, Elfraine realised, not that she was going to admit it. She hastily retreated to her original question. "So, will you tell me? Did you really ride naked?"

It was his moment of triumph. He gave her a slow, secretive smile and shook his head.

Elfraine's brow cleared and for all of a second, she thought she'd had an answer to her question. And then something about his smile brought her up short, and she realised she hadn't had anything of the sort. Her frown reappeared. "Is that 'no, you didn't ride naked' or 'no, you won't tell me'?" she asked, a little testily.

His smile deepened and he shook his head again. Then he took her by the shoulders and turned her round towards the rooftop door. Sweeping her hair back from her neck, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "It's late, Elfraine, and there are one or two other things I'd like to do before this night is over. If you want to hear my story as well, we had best go in now."

The husky rasp of his voice and the thought of what those one or two other things might be sent a delicious shiver of anticipation coursing through Elfraine. She quickly decided that, once again, he was right; it was time to go back inside. She leaned into him as he slipped his arm around her waist, and together they walked to the door. On reaching it, he stood back to let her go first. And as he followed her into the stairwell, quietly closing the door behind them, Nuada whispered one last, ancient word of magic. Outside, in the lonely silence of the night, six glittering spheres of light flared briefly and then faded into nothingness whilst the soughing wind rushed up the escarpment, free, at last, to gust and blow as it wished.

.

_Chapter posted 16th November 2014_

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

A/N: Just wanted to say thank you to everyone for their kind reviews of the last couple of chapters.  
>Cheers<br>ESSI :)


	57. Chapter 56

_Disclaimer:__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**Chapter 56**

Nuada and Elfraine walked arm-in-arm, in easy silence, back to his quarters. He summoned forth a soft, flickering werelight, and then led Elfraine to the couch and sat down. "How far had I got with my story?" he asked, pulling her onto his knee. It was a rhetorical question; he was fairly certain he hadn't managed any more than a dozen or so words the first time round.

She settled back against him and answered anyway. "You were twelve years old, and your father had just told you that you and Nuala could ride with the Faerie Court the following year." She glanced up, her eyes sharp. "Fully clothed, as I understand it."

"Ah yes. Twelve years old." He ignored her attempt to force an answer yet again. Wrapping his arms around her, he cast his mind back over the years and picked up from where he had left off earlier. "From that moment on, we could think of nothing else but the next Midsummer."

A wistful note shaded his voice and Elfraine found it easy to picture his youthful excitement and impatience. "I daresay a year had never gone so slowly."

"For my sister, yes, but for me it went only all too quickly."

"Oh?"

He grimaced, self-consciously. "I wanted more than anything to make an impression on the warriors who would ride with us. To win their respect. To be counted amongst their number... To prove myself worthy of my father's name." A sombre look settled on his face. "Athair was the greatest of all our warriors."

"Then you are surely his son," she said softly.

Nuada shook his head, instinctively disavowing the compliment… and the comparison. He rushed on. "_Bataireacht_ had always been my favourite occupation."

Elfraine's brow furrowed.

"The art of sword and spear – weapons' training," he explained. "I applied myself more diligently than ever throughout that following twelvemonth, to ensure I would impress our guests, our own warriors – Father – in the customary tournaments on either side of Midsummer's Eve." He gave a self-deprecatory smile. "I was determined to be named a champion though I had neither the years nor the experience for it."

An image of him as a youth – serious and resolved – flashed through Elfraine's mind and brought a soft smile to her face. "It never hurt to aim high."

"True," he agreed. "But it hurts to fall short."

She reached up and touched his cheek. "You had the heart – the passion – for it, at least. And that divine spark of brilliance… which I have already complimented you on." Her tone was gently teasing now. "It only needed time."

"More time than the twelve months I thought to achieve it in," he said wryly. "I couldn't see that though. I was blind to all but my goal. Everything and everyone else fell by the wayside."

Elfraine could well imagine how single-minded he must have been.

"I was doubly glad of the long, golden days of summer that year," he continued, "for it meant more time to train. Then came autumn, bringing the early rains and darkening skies. Though I practised every hour I could, I was never satisfied with my efforts. Before long, the bleak chill of winter was upon us and the world closed in, still and quiet as nature slept. The only thing that grew was my own frustration. And Nuala's."

"Your sister's!" Elfraine was a little surprised. "What was she displeased about?"

His lips curled sardonically. "Me. In those days she wished for my company. Treasured it even, as I did hers. That year, though, for all that we were so much a part of each other, I all but abandoned her. She grew impatient, unhappy with me, but I paid her no heed and in the end paid the price for it." A frown flashed across his hard, chiselled features and his voice dropped. "She always did find her own way to mete out justice. I should have remembered that."

Elfraine knew he was referring to a far more recent event now. However, there was nothing she could say so she merely squeezed his arm and waited for him to carry on.

"Spring arrived and though the days grew warmer, my mood was stuck in winter. I had realised by then my folly in thinking to make an impression of any sort upon battle-tested warriors but I could not give up. I continued to ignore Nuala – and her feelings – and by the time summer came, she was thoroughly out of patience with me. It all came to a head about a se'n night before Midsummer. The _Marcra Sióg_ had started to gather in Bethmoora and on this particular day, she asked me to go to the woods with her to get what she needed to flower herself a gown for the festivities that evening." His look grew grim. "To my shame, I flayed her with my own sense of failure. I told her 'no' – I would _not_ help her with such a vain, frivolous task. That I had more important matters to concern myself with than mere trifles… useless _pretty things_ for her dress."

Elfraine winced. "That was not well done of you."

Nuada couldn't take issue with the softly-spoken rebuke. "I know. I did say the incident didn't paint me in a very good light. Even as I spoke the words, I knew they were cruel but I got great satisfaction from saying them anyway." He paused briefly. "Especially when I felt how sharply she was stung by them, and then her distress and anger that I could take such pleasure in hurting us both. She knew full well that she was not my only target."

"Of course. Your connection," murmured Elfraine.

He gave a short nod. "She left without saying another word, and I was left to stew in my own self-pity."

"You're very hard on yourself," Elfraine observed.

"I am well aware of my own failings," he countered.

She regarded him steadily as she thought about that. "Hmm. You set your standards high, which is no bad thing. But you _were_ only thirteen and what you said wasn't so terrible as to be utterly unforgivable."

"Perhaps not," he conceded. "I don't think Nuala would have agreed with you though. When I saw her next, in the fields that night as the Faerie Court danced, I was already regretting my harsh words and the pain I'd caused her. I thought to make amends but whenever I came near she flitted away, seeking others to talk with instead. She knew, of course, of my remorse just as I knew she was set on denying me the opportunity to apologise. It only made me more determined to chase her down, force her to listen to the words. I must have made a spectacle of myself, running around after her for half the night."

A small smile touched Elfraine's lips as she pictured the scene. "And she likewise, running away from you."

Nuada slanted her a narrow look.

"I'm sure you were both adorable," she amended hastily, taking the hint. She ducked her head to hide her smile.

He snorted in exasperation. "We were thirteen years old, not three."

Elfraine was immediately side-tracked. "Oh," she sighed, imagining a pair of earnest little faces, big eyes shining gold, and silken, white-blond hair tucked behind delicately-pointed ears. "Three years' old. You must have been the dearest little moppets."

Nuada felt a certain discomfort at her words; they put him in mind of Anung un Rama and Elizabeth Sherman's innocent, bright-eyed children and they, in turn, led him to his own son… to what could have been but never was. He quickly reined in the conversation before Elfraine could travel any further down the mawkish path he'd unwittingly set her on. "I finally ran Nuala to ground as she was talking to Cúar Cráebruad. After Father, he was the greatest warrior in the Western Isles. His mother had been Scáthach of Dún Scáith and it was she who had trained Athair – in the early days of the world, when he was young. Cúar was one of the ones I'd been hoping to make an impression on. And Nuala saw to it that I did."

Elfraine gathered from his tone that his sister had done him no great favour, and his next words confirmed it.

"This time, instead of taking to her heels when I approached, she turned and faced me. Beckoned to me, in fact. _Smiled_ at me."

Nuada's own look was more of a glower and Elfraine had to bite back her amusement yet again.

"I realised, too late, that I had walked into a trap," he said. "Cúar had been complimenting Nuala on her gown – specifically on how well it suited her, adorned as it was with the fine flowers of the valley. She was quick to point out that _I_ had thought her efforts a frivolous waste of time. Her manner was all light-hearted grace and prettiness but I could feel her satisfaction at backing me into a corner and exposing me for a churl in front of Cúar. There was nothing I could say or do without making myself seem even more mean-spirited… or so I thought at the time." His lips twisted in a cynical smile. "It never occurred to me that I should have just admitted the fault and apologised, which is what I had intended to do anyway had I been able to speak with her privately."

"That _would_ have been the best thing to do," agreed Elfraine, not without sympathy. "Still, I suppose at least the score between you was evened up."

"Had I taken that view, I would have saved myself all the trouble that followed," Nuada informed her darkly. "Instead, I thought the balance had gone too far the other way."

Somehow, Elfraine wasn't entirely surprised by that.

"I left Nuala to her own devices, and turned my mind to the matter of redressing the wrong she'd done me… or rather the wrong I _thought_ she'd done me."

"And abandoned all thought of apologising in the process."

He inclined his head in admission. "An apology was now out of the question and I soon came up with a plan to even the scales. As I told you before, I have an affinity with the wild creatures of the earth."

Elfraine nodded slowly. This was obviously the part of his story where she was about to find out some of the not-so-charming uses for such a gift.

"Up until then," he explained, "I had used it only to amuse Nuala, calling the gentle creatures of the forest to her."

The implication of his words was clear. It sparked off an unsettling train of thought in Elfraine's mind that swiftly led her to a large, scuttling spider… and then a whole cluster of them. She shuddered; that would be revenge indeed.

Nuada noticed the small tremor and paused in his story. "What is wrong, Lady?"

"Spiders! You didn't set spiders on her, did you?"

"No! I did not set spiders on her." He stared at Elfraine in some puzzlement. "What would be the point of that? What inconvenience could a spider possibly cause her?" The words were barely out of his mouth when a trivial, long-buried fact he had discovered about humans – not all, but certainly a great deal many of them – sprang to mind. A sharp gleam lit up his eyes. He leaned forward and skittered his fingers across Elfraine's back. "Nuala is not scared of spiders. But you are, aren't you, Lady Wylde."

"No! I am not!" she hastily denied, wriggling on his lap and swatting ineffectually at his arm. "Stop that!"

He did as she asked and sat back with a sly look on his face. "You have nothing to fear, Elfraine."

It suddenly occurred to her, as it was no doubt meant to, that he could set a whole cluster of them on _her_ if he wanted to. She repeated her assertion, with more heat this time. "I am _not_ scared of spiders!"

His only response was a smirk, which was no comfort at all.

"Pray continue with your story," she snapped. "_Your Highness!_" Though she tried hard not to, she couldn't help a nervous glance around the room.

Nuada's lips curled in a smile of satisfaction at the telltale gesture. "I would not do such a thing to you, _mhuirnín_, if that's what you're thinking… not unless you gave me reason to."

"You – you…" She spluttered into silence and scowled at him.

His eyes glittered with amusement. "Peace, Elfraine. You have my word that I will not set spiders on you, no matter how much you vex me." He sealed the promise with a swift kiss.

Her brow cleared and she sighed as her fingers curled into the solid expanse of his chest, earning herself another kiss –more lingering this time – before he continued with his story.

"That next morning I summoned not spiders but birds – _flocks_ of birds from all over _Na hOileáin Thiar_ – to sing Nuala awake at sunrise."

Elfraine was taken aback; it was not what she had been expecting. As far as she could see there was nothing of revenge in such a gesture. In fact, it was an entirely charming one. "How – how lovely," she stammered, clearly puzzled. "Birdsong is so… _beautiful_." Perhaps he'd changed his mind after all. The thought gladdened her heart. "What did you summon? A watch of nightingales? A charm of finches? Or a flight of swallows, or…"

"No." His flat denial cut across her own flight of fancy.

"What then?" she asked, smiling up at him in expectation.

"A murder of crows, an unkindness of ravens and a chattering of starlings. And because Bethmoora was close to the coast, a colony of gulls… _several_ colonies of gulls."

The element of revenge was suddenly clear. Her smile vanished.

"And a kettle of hawks," he muttered as memory gathered pace.

Elfraine simply stared at him now.

"There were thousands of them. They woke the entire Hall. And half the surrounding countryside." He frowned.

"I – I see!" Laughter bubbled up to her lips as an image of the havoc he must have caused flashed through her mind.

"And they stayed for the rest of the summer."

"Oh Nuada! Why didn't you send them away again? After they'd served their purpose."

"I was thirteen years old. I didn't know how to, not once they'd decided they preferred the forests and fields of Bethmoora." His frown deepened.

"Couldn't your father do anything? Surely the Elf King - "

"No. He could not undo what I had done." Nuada winced inwardly as he recalled his father's reaction that day. "Much like you, he found it amusing… at first."

Elfraine, sensing a sore point, tried to restrain her laughter.

"But then, when he discovered there was nothing even _he_ could do, he grew angry. He reprimanded me in front of the entire court and all our guests, including the ones I'd been hoping to impress."

"Oh, sweetheart!" Her amusement was swamped by a wave of sympathy.

"Once again, there was nothing I could say in my defence which wouldn't make me look an even greater fool so I stood silent and took my punishment."

Elfraine brushed back a strand of hair which had fallen over his face. "I hope it wasn't too severe, Nuada."

"At first, I didn't think it overly harsh at all. His dressing down was far worse to my mind. But I soon discovered that he had devised a most ingenious punishment indeed. I was to tend to the flocks of birds for as long as they stayed on Bethmooran lands, seeing to it that they _all_ found sufficient food and water, and safe nesting grounds, and that the land didn't suffer unduly under the weight of their numbers. I was to also keep the peace between them and ensure they didn't hunt the other birds and small creatures out of existence, and I was to do it all without recourse to magic except for the magic I had used to summon them in the first place – my special talent, as it were."

"God's blood!" exclaimed Elfraine. "What – what an impossible task!"

"As I quickly discovered," confirmed Nuada. He closed his eyes and let memory take him back to that summer's day, some four thousand years earlier, when he had stood in the hot morning sun, in a field full of wildflowers and birds – thousands of them – and despaired. His eyes snapped open. "After Athair pronounced judgment, I went down to the valley to make a start and straight away realised the enormity of what was before me. The sky was alive with birds and the valley's peace shattered by their deafening noise. The hawks were already hunting the starlings, the ravens and crows were attacking the hawks, and the gulls were making targets of them all."

"What on earth did you do?" she asked, slightly aghast. It was hard to see where he could have even started with such a raucous, fiery mob.

"I used my gift to separate them, and after that I was at a complete loss. It was then, in my most wretched moment, that I sensed Nuala nearby. For an instant, I thought she had come to gloat but her heart was open to me and I knew she had come to help instead. She was not going to abandon me to my fate, no matter that I deserved it." He paused. "I… I had forgotten that."

"I'm glad you had someone to help you," said Elfraine, feeling relieved on his account.

"So was I," he admitted. "And I was doubly glad it was her. Her kindness was a balm to my injured pride and the task no longer seemed so daunting. We set our minds to work and soon came up with a plan of sorts."

Elfraine was intrigued. "I can't imagine what."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Though Athair had forbade me to use magic –"

"Except for your gift."

"Except for that," he affirmed. "Nuala, on the other hand, was under no such proscription."

"Ah!" Elfraine immediately saw the possibilities.

"Using the hidden paths of magic, she scouted out the far flung corners of Bethmoora and found suitable – and separate – hunting grounds for the birds. I sent them forth each day and they returned at nightfall to roost. As for the valley itself – _Gleann na nÉan _we called it, the Valley of the Birds – we divided it up between the flocks into areas for nesting and roosting. They mostly stayed within those confines though it required a great deal of vigilance on our part to keep what peace we could." His brow furrowed. "We weren't always entirely successful. We did, however, meet all of Athair's other conditions."

"It must have been a very busy summer for you both," remarked Elfraine.

"That it was," he affirmed. "But by _Lughnasadh_ we had become accustomed to the routine and by the time the leaves had fallen and the birds had left for warmer climes, I was fully adept in the ways of my gift… and knew to be more careful in its use."

"And had had your first taste of kingship. And your sister, queenship," Elfraine tacked on.

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant but caught sight of that light in her eyes which told him he was about to be teased. "Very well, Lady," he said wryly instead. "Have at me."

She was happy to oblige. "For that one summer, you and Nuala ruled over a kingdom – not of Elves but of birds."

He let out a short laugh. "I suppose we did, though that was not how we - " He stopped abruptly.

"Was not how you what?" she prompted gently when he seemed disinclined to finish the thought. Though he was staring straight at her, she got the feeling he was somewhere else entirely.

Her question called him back to the moment and he focused on her once more. "I think my father's ingenuity was even greater than I realised. There was more than one lesson on offer that summer."

"Practice on a number of fronts, you mean?"

He inclined his head and as he continued to stare at her, he wondered if _anything_ had ever been as he'd believed it to be. A troubled look settled on his face and his thoughts could not be silenced. "Did you ever find that things you had thought fixed – immutable – had somehow changed… shifted?"

Elfraine was startled by the question. "I – I'm not sure I understand."

His lips twisted mirthlessly. "I'm not sure I do either. If you had asked me three nights ago, I would have told you that the story of the past was a finished thing, anchored in Time and done with for the rest of days. It is not though. It lives – a spectre – and it stalks even the waking hours… upending certainty and making a mockery of every truth you ever thought you'd learnt."

Elfraine felt a stab of alarm. For her daughter's sake, she was _counting_ on the past not being a thing done with for the rest of days, and what he said hit uncomfortably close to home. For all that they were so much at ease with one another now, she was more convinced than ever that Nuada would be utterly opposed to her on this one point. Indeed, she feared she had given away too much already with the few comments she had made so far about her plans. "That – that sounds very… disturbing." It was a trite response, she knew, but she had no idea what else to say.

"It _is_ disturbing" said Nuada. It was then that he noticed her uneasy confusion. He had no wish to cause her any distress and, mistaking the cause, apologised. "Forgive me, Lady. As we agreed before, when we were up on the roof, it has been a strange and difficult day. When I fully understand my own meaning, I'll tell you… if you would like to listen."

Elfraine's fleeting sense of relief gave way to the sting of guilt and her gaze fell away from his. "It's been a strange and difficult four hundred _years_," she prevaricated, her voice tinged with cynicism. She forced herself to meet his eyes again and as she looked into their dark, troubled depths, she knew she wouldn't turn him away if he needed to talk about this even though it might make her uncomfortable and potentially cause discord between them if she said too much. Slipping her arms around his waist, she laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him. "When you've sorted it out in your mind, Nuada, I'll gladly listen."

He squeezed her tight and in the flickering glow of the werelight, they lapsed into silence as they watched the shadows dance on the far wall.

It didn't take long for the solid warmth of him to ease Elfraine's disquiet and her mind started to drift back over what they had been talking about. He hadn't quite finished his story yet, she realised… the King and Queen of Birds. The thought prompted her to mischief. "So tell me," she said, breaking the silence. "Did you and Nuala ride with the Faerie Court at Midsummer after all that?"

Nuada was distracted from his own reverie. He made to answer but before he could, she continued speaking.

"Or were you too busy with your Bird Court?"

He felt her lips curve in a smile against the bare skin where his shirt lay open. So, she was back to provoking him again, was she. He decided that she was not going to get away with it so easily this time. Roused by the soft, warm weight of her body on his, he retaliated with some provocation of his own.

Elfraine gasped in surprise as he suddenly bent her back over his arm. She instinctively clutched at his shoulders to steady herself but it wasn't necessary; his hold on her was firm. He leant down and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. His hot breath and the light graze of his teeth sent a small shiver of delight rippling through her, and it was Nuada's turn to smile.

He slowly made his way up to her mouth, savouring each small sigh, and answering her question in between kisses. "After all that, Lady, we rode with the _Marcra Sióg_ as planned. And as to your earlier question…" His lips hovered teasingly over hers.

"Hmm?" she murmured distractedly. She wasn't really interested in whatever it was she'd apparently asked about earlier. Her eyelids started to drift shut as she waited for the firm press of his mouth.

Tamping down the urge to kiss her senseless, he finished the sentence. "The Faerie Court did _not_ ride naked."

It took a second for his words to register, and then her eyes flew open. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed but he was not finished yet.

"However, once the younger members of the court had returned home and we were done with our celebration, the rest of the night was given to the pursuit of pleasure."

His voice turned the words into a sensual caress and another small shiver ran through Elfraine.

"Those of us who were so inclined found more private surroundings and then most certainly enjoyed ourselves… naked, as Nature intended us to."

"Oh!" Her eyes grew wide with interest. And then narrowed alarmingly. "You were going to send me home!"

"But I agreed to let you stay," he reminded her. He watched, fascinated, as she wavered between pique and intrigue.

Intrigue won out but when she spoke, she was unexpectedly hesitant. "Would – would _we_ have found more private surroundings?"

Nuada's eyes flared with heat – warm, burnished gold – and suddenly, it was no longer a game. In his mind, he could see her stretched out before him, her smooth, pale skin luminous in the moonlight, white on a bed of lush, green foliage… lips parted, hips arching, hands urging him on. His own hands slipped to her waist and tightened reflexively as he spoke, his voice low and intimate. "I would have carried you to the deepest part of the forest, Elfraine, and made you a bower amongst the trees, on the softest grass, then laid you down in it. And we would have had all the privacy we wanted or needed."

Everything about him – his words, his look, his tone – stole Elfraine's breath away and still he wasn't done with her. He lifted her to her feet and stood her in front of him, between his widespread thighs, and though she keenly felt the sudden loss of contact, she was incapable of protest. As he held her gaze, his long, lean fingers reached up to the buttons of her borrowed shirt. How she managed to stand there, on legs that seemed barely able to support her, she didn't know but stand she did. His hands brushed against her skin, sending small jolts of sensation racing across her nerve endings, and she found herself holding her breath in anticipation of what was to come.

But he was in no rush. With slow, unhurried movements, he undid her shirt and pushed it back off her shoulders, his every touch a caress. The garment fell to the floor and he discovered that she wore nothing underneath. Sitting back in the couch, he simply looked at her – at the familiar cast of her face, the rich, tawny waves of hair tumbling down past her shoulders, the gold-flecked depths of her expressive, brown eyes, soft with love_. _This time, she didn't look away and though Nuada feared his own expression gave away too much, neither could he. The perfection he saw in the curves and planes of her body, in the smooth sweep of her neck and rose-tipped tilt of her breasts, went far beyond anything physical. If she could lay claim to knowing him then he could say the same of her. Human though she was, and sad she might be, there was nothing flawed about her heart. It shone like a star and every part of her was lit by it.

And she had found a foothold in his own winter-dead heart, shining her light even there… warming him, thawing him… coaxing forth verdant shoots of life in the cold, barren core. She was in his blood now, and in his bones, becoming more surely wedded to him with every breath he took. To his surprise, the idea of telling her he loved her – in words she could understand – no longer seemed so impossible…

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**References:**

Athair: (Irish Gaelic) Father.

Bataireacht: (Irish Gaelic) Collective term for traditional Irish stick-fighting methods. Includes Gaelic spear, staff, axe and sword fighting methods. (See Hurley, John W., _Irish Gangs and Stick-Fighting_ (2002). The term is also found in early 20th century Irish dictionaries.) The most well-known weapon in this tradition is the shillelagh (shuh-LAY-lee). I've found some debate as to the origin and authenticity of the tradition especially when it comes to talk of 'traditional Irish martial arts' but I've taken it as a given for the purposes of this story.

Cráebruad: (Irish Gaelic) 'red branch' - one of Conchobar's (a king in the Ulster Cycle, or Red Branch Cycle, of Irish mythology) royal residences. It was named for a large, red branch (a roof beam) visible in the interior and was the place most often used for large assemblies. To lessen the chance that those gathered would start fighting with one another, weapons were not allowed in the great hall and were kept, instead, in another residence, Téte Brec ('Twinkling Hoard').

Cúar: (Irish mythological figure) One of two sons of the Amazonian warrior and sorceress, Scáthach, who taught martial arts to Cúchulainn, principal hero of the Ulster Cycle, and other heroes (Old Irish _scáth_ – shadow, shade, 'under the protection of'.)

Dún Scáith: (Irish Gaelic) Ruined fortress on the Isle of Skye, named for Scáthach. Roughly translates as 'Fortress of Shadows' (and also another name for the Otherworld, sometimes located on the Isle of Man.) According to local oral tradition, it was built by the faeries in one night.

Lughnasadh: (Irish Gaelic) one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals, Lughnasadh falls halfway between the summer solstice and autumn equinox, and marks the beginning of the harvest season. (The other festivals are Samhain, Imbolc and Beltane.)

Marcra Sióg: (Irish Gaelic) Faerie Court, Faerie Cavalcade, Elven Cavalcade.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

Na hOileáin Thiar: (Irish Gaelic) The Western Isles (used here to denote the British Isles).

Se'n night: archaic term for a week or seven nights.

Werelight: magical light (see Ursula Le Guin's _A Wizard of Earthsea.__)_

_._

_Chapter posted 19th February 2015_


End file.
